Metahuman: Neon Sounds
by Cat le Fleur
Summary: One is experienced, but must be conservative with power. The other is strong, but inexperienced and suffers grave backlash. Their enemies overpower and outnumber them. The odds are stacked against them and they can't win - not alone.
1. 1 - Echoes

**Lansing, Michigan, USA**

Lansing was possibly one of the most silent cities he had ever had the displeasure of experiencing.

Like any city, Lansing should have been alive with the sounds of cars; their engines growling, their horns beeping, their windscreen wipers squeaking against the windscreen as rain tapped against it.

Instead of jam-packed streets and crowded sidewalks, barely any form of life existed. You would be lucky to see a car pass by or anybody walking the streets even though it was only 7 PM. Compared to how desolate it had been this morning, it was a bustling metropolis. It was a ghost town compared to New York, where you were choking on fumes from cars and barging by people every moment of the day.

One would think that the calamity that had transpired would have aroused some mass panic in this catatonic city. Instead it only brought some moderate concern from some old hag, cosy in her apartment, and two police officers after she called 911. After what he done there must be at least a patrol searching for him. At the very least.

He wasn't even thinking about what he had done to the two men only doing their job - after all, they knew the risks that came with putting on that uniform and neither were particularly good people anyways. All he was focused on was resting. He didn't pay attention to the cold rain drenching him or the searing, white-hot pain that flared up in parts of his body. All of his muscles ached and blood dripped and dropped off of his chin, mixing with the rain.

He stumbled into an alleyway, his nose wrinkling in disgust at the pungent stench of urine and garbage he could smell through his brken nose. A neon sign was above him, glowing a soft crimson and advertising some bar. It suddenly blew out, sending sparks down onto him after a flash of crimson flooded the alley.

It cast him in it's glow, clear for everyone to see for a brief moment. He stood at around 5'9" with a lean, healthy build. His short, chestnut brown hair clung to his forehead from the rain that came down from the grey sky above and his bloodied face was twisted in a permanent scowl. His jacket, shirt, jeans, and sneakers were also soaked.

The most stand out feature of him was his eyes, green in colour. At first glance, it seemed that it was his anisocoria that made them unique. This wasn't the case. His eyes harboured festering emotions of cynicism, bleakness, and hatred. A product of his environment, he justified.

Parts of his leather jacket was scorched and, in other areas, melted and scorching the tender flesh underneath in painful burns. But it didn't bother him anymore and he continued stumbling onwards, thumping his back against the slimey brick wall and sliding down it. There he sat, his neck craned upwards as he gasped for breath.

He could hear the distant sound of a helicopter in the air above. Whether they found him or not was irrelevant. Everything had been done and there was no way to reverse his actions. Death was the next step. Die and be born anew, away from the scum that surrounded him on a daily basis.

 _'Is it done?'_ a voice rang out in his head. It was deep and rough and guttural, a powerful voice to some. But to him, it was a voice that briefly sparked a long dead feeling inside his heart; hope.

"Done." He murmured, coughing and spurting. He covered his hand with his mouth, removing it to find it bloodied and a bitter taste of iron in his mouth. It must be internal bleeding. "Both dead." his voice carried a Nova Scotian accent.

 _'And you'll soon follow, I see.'_ the voice commented. It was silent for a moment, before speaking again with a growl in its voice, _'where are the others, Alex? Did he kill them?'_ it demanded.

Alex looked down, seeing a ghastly cat looking up to him with amber eyes like headlights. It's big brown body was partly transparent and it's muzzle was scarred. He thought it had been a figment of his imagination when it first appeared to him, until he probed its mind and learned about things he would have never entertained beforehand.

It found out about a culture of warrior cats, complete with their own laws and religion and hierarchy. He found out that the poltergeist before him was named Tigerstar, the leader of ShadowClan. The tabby's knowledge became his own. Though he wasn't happy about the forced entry into his mind and it's contents. But he now knew it was no delusion.

It was interesting to say the least. It was like a child's fantasy had come to life yet it had been made cynical by the harsh reality of the world. But he craved to be there so bad, where he would live out the rest of his joyless existence in peace.

He also learned of Tigerstar's goals and ambitions. He didn't care what he planned to do, or that he was small part in a grand scheme. What he wanted was a life of peace. So long as acquired that peace, he could have been unleashing hell on earth for all he cared.

"Dead. Was too fast. Knew what he was doing." responded Alex, still panting. It was only half true.

The spirit leered in response, _'I'm not surprised, you twolegs lack the training of warriors.'_

He sputtered and coughed again, grimacing in pain. "Shut up." he mumbled, "just shut up."

The spectre wasn't happy with his response, hissing audibly. Alex could hear the thoughts of Tigerstar, threats of being stranded and left for dead were swarming in his mind. Alex knew that, while his efforts in this grand plan Tigerstar had devised would be undermined in time, he was too important to just die as of now. But he still kept his lips sealed. Just in case.

He was becoming light headed, resting it against the cold brick wall. The rain was still beating down on his face, mingling with the blood on it. "Why did you want them dead?" Alex suddenly asked.

Tigerstar responded, _'they had potential to be future threats. It was an unlikely chance they would have interfered, but I didn't want to risk it,'_ he explained, _'what do you_ _twolegs call it? Tying up loose ends?'_ there was a sadistic purr in his voice.

Alex only gave a subtle nod in response to show he had head. He knew what it meant, his heart would soon stop beating. He could feel it now, slowing and weakening. He muttered, "what happens once it's all..." he paused for a second, coughing, "when it's all over?"

 _'Once you've fulfilled your purpose you can live as you please, whether or not you choose to stay with the Clans I don't care.'_

 _"_ Is that the same for them?"

 _'Yes. But once you're all where I need you, I won't be able to guide you - not for a while. I must regain my strength before I can walk among you or in your dreams.'_

Alex again nodded in response. He closed his eyes, coughing again. "Finally. I get away from this hell hole," he chuckled dryly, his voice low and hoarse. Alex covered his face, laughing. "Oh thank God. I don't have to deal with this shitty world anymore..."

He breathed in deeply, "...what a blessing."

Tigerstar looked up at him as Alex took his last breath, condemning his kin as he did. As his life faded, so did the spectre. There was no reason to stay. His twolegs were dead, as were possible threats to his plan. Now it was time for history would repeat itself, but it would have a different ending this time.

Darkness would not be expunged - it would plunge the Clans into the void where he would finish what he started.


	2. 2 - All Along The Watchtower (1 of 2)

The late winter weather surprisingly had no real effect on the climate of the mountain. Yes, there was little to no snow as spring was fast approaching, yet it was still wracked by the frigid winds that blew though its gorges, valleys, and corries. It was not safe from the abysmal weather above, either, with colossal grey clouds looming above them.

He needed to find shelter. Not only to get out of the inevitable rain, but also to rest. His legs felt as if they were on fire, as if every muscle in them was protesting against his wishes to keep moving forward and navigating the rocky, steep terrain. The tom had been traversing the mountains, all day everyday, for the past week just trying to find a way down with no luck at all.

The tom had no idea why he was up here to begin with. He awoke, shivering during the night in the mountains after a. . .bad day. In a state of hysteria, he just stumbled away from his waking point into the cold night. A crazed cat howling and caterwauling like he just crawled out from the depths of hell.

It was hard to remember anything else he did from that night - everything was a blur of panic and primal fear. But he could remember crying out for his loved ones until his vocal cords felt shredded. He woke up in a small cave a few hours later he must have ran into during his frenzy.

He had been looking for way down since then. The pessimistic side of him said today would be no different, his mood had been soured further by his unrealistically optimistic companion. Someone in a similar situation as himself.

His companion was antall and skinny blue-grey cat with lighter areas - his chest and muzzle - and amber eyes. His messy fur was short, but it gave him a wild look. Even with all that's happened, his eyes still held a glint of mischief and playfulness caged behind despair. It was pretty obvious he was a teenager from how he carried himself. With his new sense of smell, he had found his companion's scent was similar to that of fumes or traffic which had been overwhelming when they first met. Which made sense, seeing as he had a thick accent of a New Yorker. His name was Jordan Johjima.

Himself? He was a dark ginger tabby cat with a white muzzle and underbelly and he had hazel eyes. He was of average height - for a cat - but he leaned on the taller side. Unlike his partner, he didn't have any emotions other than hopelessness and anger in his eyes. He wore a slight scowl because of it. Jordan tried to lighten the mood sometimes by making friendly jabs at his Michigander accent, mimicking the way he pronounced his O's and A's. This started as soon as he told him his name - Allen Falkirk. It hadn't really stopped since to his misfortune.

Allen was never in the mood for jokes here; they didn't make things better, they only made it worse.

"Dude, we've been walkin' for hours. Can we just, like, sit for a minute?" Jordan inquired, huffing in exhaustion as they padded along.

Allen responded "no, we can't, it's gonna rain real soon and I'm not getting caught in it." he clambered over a boulder, the younger tom following him.

"C'mon, just for a minute!" the tom protested, "aren't your legs killing you?"

The ginger tabby paused for a second. His legs were killing him. He sighed, "okay, fine - but just for a minute." agreed Allen.

Jordan let loose a whoop of relief, plopping onto his hunches and resting against the boulder. "Y'know, Al. I think I'm getting the hang of this cat thing." he spoke, a tone of pride in his voice.

"That's great n' all," the ginger tabby grunted as he sat down. His limbs, unlike Jordan, still felt relatively clumsy and stiff. "But we gotta focus on getting down from this damn mountain."

The blue-grey tom gave a hopeful reply, "yeah, dude. Today's the day - I can feel it!" he smiled.

Allen gave him a look, "you're so full of shit," he mumbled. He wanted to snap at his partner for being so naïve, but he refrained from doing so. The tom didn't want to completed destroy the younger cat's morale just because he didn't have any.

"What? C'mon, man, we're not gonna be up here forever!" Jordan replied in protest. "It's not _that_ hard to get down a mountain."

The tom snapped in anger, "have you ever been on a mountain?"

"No, but you said that you haven't either."

"Yeah, but you can't just walk down a mountain you moron. We gotta find a _safe_ way down," Allen explained. They had been looking for a way down since they had encountered one another but had been unsuccessful in their efforts. So far, they had been able to descend by a few meters, but they needed to reach a side and see if there was a safe way down. So that was their plan. Get to the edge of the mountain and see if there was a way down that posed minimal risks - as minimal as climbing down a mountain with no gear could get, at least.

He groaned in irritation, "fuck, we've been up here for a whole week! We don't even know where we are! Are we even in the U.S.!?" the tom fumed. He took a deep, shaky breath to calm his nerves. "Okay, let's find some shelter before it rains."

Jordan whined, "can't we sit for another minute?"

"No." Allen responded curtly, getting up and continuing to walk. He heard the younger tom behind him groan, following him. "Oh quit whining." He added. The two cats continued their trek, they only paused when they saw an eagle flying overhead.

"Hey, dude," meowed the blue-grey cat, squinting to get a better look, "that's an eagle." It was circling something. Perhaps it had found some prey.

"Huh. Well that's tonight's dinner, then." responded Allen, looking up at it. Up on the mountain, it was surprisingly easy to find water. It was a simple process of finding snow or waiting for it to rain and - bam - you had drinking water. Finding food was a different beast altogether. Very few things lived on the mountain. Except eagles, which were a nightmare to hunt. However, it was made a little bit easier by their technique - though it was totally reliant on Allen's aim. The ginger tabby stood on his hind legs, wobbling a little until Jordan came to support him.

"Everytime we do this I get Titanic vibes." the younger cat chuckled.

The eldest of the two made no comment or remark, focusing on the bird of prey flying overhead. It was paying no attention to him. Which was good, otherwise it would be trying to divebomb them. He reached out with his right paw.

A sudden reddish-pink flash enveloped his paw, it's aura climbing up his foreleg and wrapping around it. He was thirteen years old when he realised when he was a metahuman and ten years later he still felt a little giddy whenever he used it, even when it was a serious matter at hand.

Allen aimed for the bird of prey, remaining motionless before firing off a neon bullet. It wizzed through the air, leaving a purple-pink trail as it went. It was fast, moving as a blur through the air until it hit the eagle and sent it sprawling through the air in a burst of neon light and feathers. Though that was only how he perceived it. To most people, it was moving at the speed of light; it was there, then it wasn't.

"Right on!" cried Jordan.

"You can let go of me now," meowed Allen, the younger cat released him. They approached the downed eagle, finding that it was now dead. It hadn't been killed by the initial shot, but rather the impact of the rocky terrain from falling. He sighed and grimaced, "we're gonna be eating this raw, cause that was the last of my neon."

"Aw man, that's a bummer. How do you run out of neon?" Jordan inquired, gagging a little at the thought of eating raw meat. While eagle roasted by his companion's neon had a strange aftertaste, at least it was fully cooked.

Allen shrugged, "I just do, that's how it works. I run out, then I need to absorb more," he explained, "neon's in the atmosphere though, but it's gonna take a long while before I'm charged up decent."

"Why's that?"

"Because it's not even one percent? It's not even half a percent." Allen replied.

"How come you need to absorb it? I don't need to absorb sound." Jordan inquired, sounding almost childlike.

"Hey, I'm an engineer, not a metabiologist. I've not got a fuckin' clue," the dark ginger cat responded. His nose scrunched up as a droplet of water landed on it. "Shit. Help me carry the bird and let's scram."

Like the last time they picked up their prey, it was extremely awkward for them using their mouth rather than their hands (or paws in this case) to hold and move something around. But they could manage. Thankfully, they managed to find a cave to rest in safe from the rain. They sat the eagle between the two of them.

"Well, looks like we're stuck here til the rain stops." Jordan muttered, looking out from the cave. It was pretty heavy rain too, making a calamitous symphony as droplets collided against rock.

"You think?" Allen responded, his voice muffled by the feathers in his mouth. Tonight was his turn at plucking duty. He spat them out, grimacing as he did. "Ack, I hate doing this." he complained.

The blue-grey cat smirked, "yeah, it's pretty awful," he added, "that's what you get for forcing me to do it all the time."

"Shut up. If you weren't so whiny then I wouldn't need to." retorted the dark ginger tom.

Jordan playfully rolled his amber eyes, "dude, maybe if you weren't a wuss and done it yourself then you wouldn't need me to do it." he, again, smirked.

"Smartass." Allen responded, removing the last of the feathers and leaving the eagle now bare. In his opinion, he had done a good job. Of course, there was no way for him to remove the head or feet in a manner that wasn't visceral. The flesh where the bullet of neon had collided was inflamed and red, but not blistering or scarred. He had always been sure to keep the temperature of the neon down as low as he could make it whenever they hunted as to not ruin the meat. "Alright, dinner's ready." the tom mewed.

The younger cat whined with a tone of disgust, "yeah, I'm not looking forward to this."

"Me neither." the eldest agreed. They both stared at the featherless eagle on the ground, giving each other a look. The both of them knew they weren't going to catch any sort of illness from the raw meat - after all, they had stomachs that could take raw meat. But it was quite a jump to go from eating meat cooked in an unorthodox way to eating raw meat. However, they forced themselves to dig in and ignore the unpleasantness of it all.

"Y'know this actually pretty lit." meowed Jordan, swallowing a piece of eagle.

Allen just sighed and shook his head. _This kid,_ he thought to himself, _Dave would've hated him._ David Falkirk. His foul-mouthed, temperamental baby brother. He was the only person in the world who Allen could both hate and love at the same time. For every fight they had, Allen stuck up for him when anyone tried to start one with his brother.

But since David died nearly a year ago, he felt there was a piece of him missing. A piece that was never coming back no matter how much he craved it - or how he tried to move on. Nothing was the same so long as he knew his little brother was no longer part of the world.

But, Allen woke up as a cat after what was his untimely end. Who was to say David hadn't too? That thought gave him a spark of hope. Nothing grand, but just enough to make him decide the was getting down this mountain- whatever the cost. He was going to find his little brother once they were down and if that meant going to the four corners of the earth then so be it. The tom looked out onto the mountain and into the distance to see that the sun had now set, leaving everything dark yet there was enough light for him to see.

"Do you wonder why we're here?" he suddenly asked.

Jordan, taken by surprise, swivelled his head to look Allen dead in the eye before turning to look into the distance. "I dunno, man. Maybe this is, like, heaven or something." he murmured.

Allen snorted, "you've got a funny idea of heaven." he leaned against the wall of the cave. He had never fully believed in an afterlife. To him, you died and that's all - there were no golden gates in the clouds or fire and brimstone waiting on the other side. He was unsure of himself and the belief he held now.

But if this was the afterlife, why were they cats? It didn't make a lick of sense. Allen didn't have a particular like for cats, it didn't seem like Jordan did either. So why were they cats and not human? Did God have a surreal sense of humour?

"I don't get it." Allen suddenly mewed, frustration building in his voice. Nothing made sense to him right now.

"Don't get what?" the younger tom inquired.

"All of it. Like, why are we cats? Why are we at the top of a mountain? Why us two and not someone else?" the dark ginger tabby sighed. He just wanted some answers from somebody - anybody. A straight answer to this insanity was all Allen was craving.

Jordan didn't reply, allowing silence to settle between the two of them. The only sound present was the heavy rain outside. He suddenly spoke, "...do you think he had something to do with it?"

Allen frowned, he didn't want to think about that man. It filled him with rage and fear to think about him, his blood seemingly boiling and freezing at the same time. All he could see in his mind was his eyes.

The first thing that stood out about them was how his left pupil was larger than his right, but what really stood out was the look in his eyes - he was like a wolf wearing sheep's clothing. Both of them had encountered him, but the younger cat didn't remember much from his encounter. Whether or not that was a good thing remained to be seen.

"Maybe," Allen answered. "But I remember three others too, though." he added. The tom could remember them clearly, none of them were pushovers in the slightest. But at least they wouldn't be bothered by any of those four again. He had to thank God for that.

Jordan nodded, "me too," he coughed, "can we talk about something else? I really don't wanna talk about this."

The elder cat frowned, pangs of empathy resounding in his chest. _Poor kid,_ he thought to himself. "Yeah, I think it's time to sleep anyways." he murmured, padding to a corner of the cave and resting against the cold ground. He shivered.

The blue-grey tom curled into a ball, "shame you can't make that neon light you did last time; we're gonna freeze."

Allen responded, "We'll be fine, Jordan. Goodnight."

"Night."

As he lay there, he flipped onto his back and stared at the ceiling of the cave. The dark ginger tabby could only think of his brother. If David was here, wherever 'here' was, what had he been doing? He didn't know, in all honesty. Allen reached up to the ceiling with his paw, imagining that David's paw was reaching for his own. A sense of longing overpowered him. Allen wanted to see his baby brother again. To hear his voice again.

"I'm coming, Dave. Just hold on." he whispered.


	3. 3 - All Along The Watchtower (2 of 2)

Jordan shivered, feeling a cold breeze move through his fur. In response, he curled up into the ball he had miraculously stayed in all night. He didn't want to get up, not because the rocky ground was comfortable but rather because his body ached due to the ground. He knew moving around wouldn't be a pleasant experience.

But he knew Allen would badger him until he got up. The last two times he refused had earned him a blast of neon to the ribs. Cooled down, of course. It stung and caught him off guard, but it wasn't too painful or left any wounds. It was like someone hitting a cup of warm water against his ribs.

It suddenly occurred to the blue-grey tom that his older companion no longer had any neon left for the time being. A triumphant smile appeared on his face. _Yes, more sleep!_ he purred mentally. Sure the sun was setting earlier and earlier every day, but daylight was not being wasted by him sleeping in.

The only problem he had now was the faint scent of stale meat in the cave. Jordan hated this new sense of smell above everything else because unpleasant smells that could've been ignored beforehand were now much more potent. Without any form of air freshener, they couldn't be dealt with and he had to just bear it.

He opened an amber eye in a slit, scanning his surroundings. Both Allen and the eagle were gone. Which meant the dark ginger tabby was up and disposing of the leftovers. With his one open eye, Jordan looked out the mouth of the cave to find the sun was rising. It was pretty early, but that was fine because he wasn't getting up for another few hours.

Or so he hoped.

Just as the blue grey cat closed his eyes, he heard Allen call into the cave. "Jordan, get up."

He groaned and mumbled in protest, placing his tail over his eyes to block out the light coming from the outside world.

"C'mon, get up." the older cat responded, his tone now impatient.

"No," grumbled Jordan, "don't wanna."

"Don't wanna?" repeated Allen, "what? Are you a toddler now? Get your lazy ass up." he demanded, padding briskly into the cave.

The blue-grey tom didn't reply with words, only giving a loud, frustrated groan of protest. His tail now move away from his face, lashing as it curled over his paws. "You're not my dad, Al." he eventually replied, his voice hoarse.

The dark ginger tabby hissed. Another thing Jordan hated was now they behaved more like animals than they did people sometimes. Maybe it was just their new instincts. "Jordan, I swear to-"

In anger and frustration, Jordan batted at the tom with one of his paws. Though he was unaware of what he had subconsciously done until he heard Allen crash into the cave wall with a 'thud.' Another sound was present too, something akin to a bass drop. Though it wasn't like one from a song - it was too violent-sounding.

The blue-grey tom immediately knew what he had done and sprang to his paws. "Allen! I am so, so sorry! I-I can't control it good an-and it..." he paused for a split-second, still frantic, "I am just- I'm sorry I-"

"It's okay, just shut up!" Allen grunted in pain, slowly getting to his paws. "Fuck. That hurt." he added through gritted teeth.

Jordan opened his mouth to respond, but closed it and looked away in guilt. His powers had always been a problem since they first manifested when he was fourteen. Sometimes they worked and sometimes they didn't - when they did something always went wrong. "A-are you okay, dude?" he finally spoke quietly, a tone of remorse in his voice.

"Just a little winded," he responded with a cough, "you really pack a punch."

"I do?"

"Yeah."

"Really? That's cool, I guess." the younger tom replied, a bewildered half-smile on his face. While he partially thought Allen was being generous, he thought it was good to know. In case he ever actually had to begrudgingly use his powers of sound. Jordan was also surprised the older cat didn't try to kill him.

"Okay," the ginger tom murmured, "let's get down this mountain."

With that, the two toms exited the mouth of the cave and began their journey towards the side of the mountain in the hopes of a way down. As they ventured onwards, Jordan began to think about what he was going to do once they descended.

He would probably follow Allen solely because he had no clue what he was going to do. Jordan had never been outside of New York City in his life, until now, and he was completely directionless otherwise. Looking at Allen, the younger cat knew he had a plan that he was hell-bent on seeing through. Without anything else to go on and nowhere to go, it meant that it was Jordan's plan too by proxy, although Allen didn't know that yet. Of course, Jordan would love to go home. But his lack of experience and current situation hindered him greatly - for now, anyways.

They continued onwards. The two cats clambered over boulders and squeezed through gaps in rocks. Occasionally, an eagle would swoop down and attempt to attack them. Allen was the one who usually fended them off, cussing like a sailor as he did.

"It's pretty weird how they keep going for you," Jordan commented. With a smirk, he added, "I think that cologne you're wearing's workin'."

"Fuck off." the dark ginger tabby grumbled, "hey, look. I think that's the side of the mountain!" he exclaimed, his voice brimming with relief. He raced off, taking younger cat by surprise.

"Hey, wait! Slow down!" Jordan cried, chasing after the older tom. He caught up with him, finding Allen overlooking the edge of the mountainside. He followed his gaze, finding a steep and rocky face of the mountain. There was a range of mountains, stretching as far as the eye could see. At the bottom was a flowing river and more rocky terrain. They also managed to find out how high up they were too.

Very high.

Jordan wanted to lay flat against the ground in some vain effort to bring him closer to the ground. "We're so high up!" He cried, taking a step back from the edge. The tom was expecting Allen, so hell-bent on finding a way down, to become enraged at the fact they were in a mountain range. After all, he wanted down this mountain the most.

But his reaction surprised the blue-grey cat. "I'm getting down this mountain, one way or another, so let's fucking go." he murmured. The younger cat could see the resolve and diligence shining in his eyes and etched into his face. He began descending the side of the mountain, not waiting for his companion.

"Dude, what are you doing?" Jordan mewed with concern, peeking over the edge. He saw Allen slowly descending the mountainside, taking extremely cautious steps as he went. Some of his steps caused rocks to come loose and tumble down the hill. The dark ginger tabby cussed in response.

"What does it look like?" the ginger tom called back.

"Are you sure it's safe?" the younger cat frowned.

"I've been stuck on this mountain for a week, do you really think I give a shit about safety anymore?" responded Allen. He continued to make deliberate movements down the mountainside. A rock his paw was resting on suddenly came loose, "shit!" he hissed as he momentarily lost his balance.

Jordan followed after Allen, following the path he had taken. By the time the blue-grey tom had started, his companion was halfway down. As he took his first step, the to rock came loose and tumbled away. "Whoawhoawhoa!" he cried, losing his balance.

The older cat's head snapped upwards, "careful!"

The blue-grey cat regained his balance and give a shaken, but relieved, sigh. Though his heart was still beating madly in his chest. The tom felt as if his paws were now part of the ground. He couldn't stop staring downwards and it seemed as if the ground below was growing more distant. No matter how hard Jordan tried to move or look away, his body refused to cooperate. _C'mon, you lived in a penthouse!,_ he thought, _what're you scared of heights now for, huh?_

After his 'pep talk' Jordan managed to continue his descent towards the ground. "I-I'm okay!" he called down to Allen, following after him. The tom didn't get far before the rock he stepped on came loose and tumbled down the mountainside - as did he. The young cat cried out in fright as the world span around him.

He crashed into Allen, who let out a yelp of surprise in response. He, too, began tumbling until they both ended up in the river below, landing with a splash. Jordan opened his eyes to find himself submerged in cold, murky water. It was so, so unbearably cold. He opened his mouth to scream, due to a severe terror and the unexpected iciness of the river, but water rushed in before any sound could come out. The blue-grey cat began flailing in a frenzy of primal fear and struggling not to cough underwater.

Jordan suddenly felt a pressure on his scruff. But it was the least of his worries as his mind raced for ways to survive drowning. He was completely and totally out of his element more so than he already was. He was then forcibly made to emerge to the surface, sputtering and wheezing. The air only served to make him feel colder.

"Jesus! Get it together, Jordan!" Allen hissed, his voice muffled through the younger cat's scruff. He was managing to swim, though his movements were awkward.

Jordan kept thrashing, "I-I can't swim! I can't swim!" he yowled frantically while coughing, continuing to flail in an attempt to stay afloat as they traveled down the river.

The ginger cat remembered this morning when his companion was similarly emotionally tense and what happened. "Calm down, I don't want a repeat of earlier," he meowed.

He looked towards his paws, ceasing in his flailing, and saw the water around them rippling. "Okay. . .okay. I'm calming down, I'm calming down." Jordan responded, breathing heavily. Though he was still acutely aware that he couldn't swim, he kept in mind Allen was supporting him. He could still hear his heart beat in his ears, like a war drum, but it was calming down.

But it soon became frantic once he noticed what was up ahead. The river disappeared, leaving only the sky in its place. But the deafening roaring of water told him something much worse was waiting for them. "Waterfall!" the young cat cried in terror, once again beginning to thrash violently in the water.

Allen's eyes widened, "what?! Shit!" he attempted to turn around and swim away, but the pull of the current was too strong and the cold was slowing him down. They soon plummeted over the edge. The blue-grey tom could barely see as the foamy water almost covered his whole face. Both toms screamed before hitting the water below.

Jordan once again began flailing, his heart rate immeasurable as he screamed bloody murder. It died down to a traumatised whimper as he soon realised he could stand in the water and have his face remain above the water, so long as he looked towards the sky.

"Ugh, Jesus. How are we still alive?" Allen coughed, looking back up towards the water fall. It was quite the drop.

The blue-grey tom sobbed, shaken by the experience. The tom had almost died and had been lost and confused for a whole week, following someone he didn't even know into a situation that almost cost him his life. The water around him rippled unnaturally, like it could sense all the negative emotions he was currently feeling. It only made him feel worse knowing his powers were again acting up.

"I-I dunno, man," he replied, shaking like a leaf and almost on the edge of bursting into tears.

The elder cat's features softened, also shivering, "hey, are you crying?"

"I almost died, I'm freezing, and I can't swim! Yes, I'm crying!" Jordan snapped, still sobbing. The water around him becoming more violent and choppy.

Allen took note of this. "Hey, take it easy," He said, trying to keep a soothing tone though anxiety crept through it. "Jordan, my heart rate's through the roof right nowntoo, I can't fault you for being upset," he spoke, "now, just calm down, because we're okay now."

Jordan nodded, "w-we're okay now." he repeated.

"That's right," He responded, grimacing at the cold. "I'm sorry." the ginger tom suddenly spoke.

"W-what for?"

Allen sighed in irritation, "for getting us into this mess. Because I'm an impatient asshole we're now in a river and you're currently having a panic attack. Sorry, Jordan."

"This is all very touching." a voice commented. It had an accent, but Jordan couldn't identify what it was. It sounded Irish, but it also could have been Scottish. Maybe it was Welsh? Definitely Welsh. "But do you two need some help?" the speaker inquired.

The two toms snapped in the direction of the voice. They saw a group of four cats. The blue-grey tom believed that the speaker was the slender she-cat who stood at the front of the entourage. "Uh. . .who are you guys?" Jordan questioned, his voice still shaking.

"I am Flight of Startled Heron, and we are cats from The Tribe Of Rushing Water," the she-cat introduced, "you are?"

"I'm Allen, he's Jordan. Yeah, we could use some help." Allen spoke, moving towards the riverside.

Jordan followed after him slowly, wading through the water as he attempted to keep his head above water at all times. He felt a little better, knowing how dumb his walk must look. _I'm probably walking like a t-rex,_ he mused, _that's pretty sweet actually._ The tom soon reached the riverside, clambering up to the paws of the Tribe cats.

Allen and Jordan, both freezing and dripping wet, looked down at Flight of Startled Heron. The blue-grey cat noticed how small she was, along with how thin she was too. In fact, they were all thin. It was like they hardly ate. Up close, he noticed that they were all slathered in mud too.

Strange, but perhaps it was a cultural thing.

"Okay," Allen started, breathless, "I don't know if you saw, but we just fell down a fucking waterfall. We need a place to rest up because I don't think I can keep going, and I speak for both of us when I say that. So could we stay with you guys, just for a night?" he asked.

"We saw," responded Heron, "you're very lucky to be alive. If you come with us, we can take you to our leader and we will discuss it there." she spoke.

Jordan frowned in response. They were too weak to push on, they needed some rest, and the answer they got was a 'maybe?' He didn't feel confident knowing that there was a chance they would be refused the help they so badly needed. He looked to the dark ginger tabby for his reaction. He didn't seem all too pleased. But if there was anything on his mind that he wanted to say, then he seemed to be keeping it to himself.

"Fine, Lead the way." he meowed, a hint of irritation slipping in to his voice.

"Come." the Tribe cat beckoned, padding towards wherever she called home with her group in tow. The two toms followed after her.

"Let's hope this goes well." murmured Allen.

The younger cat nodded in agreement. They were getting closer and closer to their goal. Jordan could only pray it wasn't snatched away from them by a callous Tribe leader.


	4. 4 - Lights And Sounds (1 of 4)

Allen and Jordan followed Heron and her group. The dark ginger tabby walked stiffly, he experienced pain every time he moved. Every step he took was accompanied by a grimace and a scowl. The younger cat paced beside him, looking miserable.

He felt both remorse and empathy course though him. The older tom was forgetting he was just a kid, barely older than David was. Allen knew that they were both becoming familiar with the same emotions; confusion, fear, despair, anger. Allen was forgetting that everytime he snapped at him for just trying to cope.

The dark ginger tom was trying to cope, also. But his methods were harmful to those around him; he was lashing out. The world had become a hostile place to be once again and he was reacting by being antisocial. He done the same thing when his little brother died, except he was loaded with neon when that happened.

The police were still looking for the metahuman who melted that dumpster.

Allen felt partly compelled to apologise for being as aggressive as he has been, but there was a time and a place. His shift focused to the Tribe cats. Three of them led the way, Flight of Startled Heron taking the front, and two cats took up each side. One walked close to himself, and the other Jordan.

He wanted to remain on guard, just in case they tried anything. After all, they were two weary travelers who were lost in the mountains. They were easy pickings for any sleazy con artist worth their salt. Yet Allen liked to consider himself streetwise, thanks to living in one of the worst areas in Detroit growing up. He was no stranger to unsavoury characters, nor was he unfamiliar with those characters becoming aggressive.

Though that was usually due to his little brother being a loud mouth. Allen got by by keeping his head down, the only thing he could do without fighting or aggravating someone. But he was forced into making a scene every time David got into trouble - so long as he hadn't started it.

The dark ginger cat sighed longingly. He wanted to see his brother again, so badly. Yet doubt was gnawing at his mind. Obviously, through some miraculous events he had ended up here. But had David? Or had Allen just convinced himself in his desolate misery that his brother had, too? Maybe, he thought, maybe he had.

All he needed to do was ask the people he didn't fully trust. But the tom needed to throw caution to the wind, going against his better judgment.

"Hey," Allen suddenly spoke.

Heron's ears swivelled at the sound of his voice, she turned to look at him, "Hm?"

"Did a cat come through here? Who sounds like me?" the tom inquired. He managed to keep a desperate, pleading tone out of his words.

The she-cat paused for a second, humming in thought. "There was, yes. But I-"

"-Do you know where he went?" He interrupted, almost shouting at the surprised Tribe cat. One of the patrol members must have thought he was getting aggressive, taking a threatening step towards the dark ginger cat. In response, Allen glared.

"Calm down, you two." Heron responded curtly. As the other cat took a step back, she turned her attention to the foreigner. "Yes, there was a cat who sounded very similar to you who came through here along with his Clan," she explained.

Allen attempted to stay cool, but there were many cracks in his facade. "D-did he say what his name was?" he asked. His voice was trembling. David was here, he had to be! God, he must look like a massive hypocrite to Jordan right now; for all his curbing of the younger tom's naïve optimism, yet here he was brimming with it.

The tabby she-cat replied "There's a bit of. . .confusion around the name. His Clan called him Sparkpaw, but he called himself-"

"-David?" He interrupted a second time. It felt as if a century passed before Allen received an answer. His heightened reflexes only served to make it feel even longer. But the answer that seemed to take so painfully long was soon found, and the world seem to become a little less hostile in turn.

"Yes, that's right." Heron murmured, "do you know him?"

"Know him?" Allen repeated, laughing heartily in both joy and relief, "he's my little brother!"

The brown tabby nodded in response, "ah, I see. Are you looking for him?"

Allen held a grin on his face, "Yeah. We haven't seen each other in a long time," he responded, his voice cracking a little. His baby brother was here with him - and now he had a lead.

But first, Jordan and himself needed rest. The younger tom padded close to the dark ginger tabby. He whispered, "dude, I didn't know you had a little brother,"

The tom responded, "yeah, I didn't talk about him because. . .well, what happened to him isn't nice to think about," he grimaced.

The blue-grey cat frowned, "what happened?"

Allen just gave him a look in response.

The young tom looked away awkwardly, "s-sorry, man. Morbid curiosity, you know?"

"Just shut your trap."

As they walked, Allen took time to digest this new information. What he wanted to know is why there was confusion around David's identity. Why was he known by two names? He knew for a fact that his brother would never choose a ridiculous name like 'Sparkpaw.' Had this 'Clan' he was with dub him that?

That alone raised a few more questions; where was this Clan and his brother now? Why had they changed his brother's name? Had David joined a cult? Only God knew. As of now, the only thing that mattered was the fact that David was alive.

Eventually, the group reached their destination; a roaring waterfall which fed into a churning river. For a second, the dark ginger tabby thought that they had been had and was about to attack the closest Tribe cat. But he soon noticed a rocky path that lead to something hidden behind the waterfall.

Heron pointed towards the waterfall with her tail, "just behind the waterfall is our home; The Cave of Rushing Water,"

Jordan was awestruck, "duuuude, this is amazing!" he exclaimed with a grin. His star struck reaction made a nearby Tribe cat smile a little.

"huh. So it's behind the waterfall?" Allen inquired. Like Jordan, he found this to be interesting - though to a lesser extent. A group of feral cats living together in the Welsh mountains? Someone call National Geographic.

The Tribe cats led them up the path, into the mouth of the cave. Obviously, it was dark inside their home but the natural light from the outside world helped to illuminate the cave. Speaking of which, the cave was as wide as the waterfall that concealed it. There were two narrow passageways on either side of the cave as well as indents. These indents had feathers and the heads of curious cats poking out from them.

Allen surveyed his new surroundings, taking everything in. He had never seen anything like this before in his life. It was amazing, honestly. The tabby looked towards Jordan, seeing that he was doing the same thing as him.

"Man, how lucky are you guys?" the blue-grey tom grinned, "it was like this cave was made for you!"

Heron smiled at the childlike wonder of the young cat, "perhaps it was a blessing from our ancestors," she responded.

"This is lit!"

 _Jesus Christ. Whatever, it seems like they like him,_ Allen thought to himself. He had got the impression that Jordan was a social butterfly with how expressive and talkative he was. The group that found seemed to becoming more fond of him as time passed on.

Allen interjected, "so, where's your leader?"

"He should be at the end of the cave. Come with me," the she-cat spoke, dismissing the rest of the patrol with a flick of her tail. The two toms followed her to the end of the cave. At the end there was a small tunnel. It must be where the leader resides.

Heron called in to the tunnel, "Stoneteller, our patrol came across two travellers. They wish to rest in the cave for the night." she stated.

A grizzled old cat exited the tunnel, scars and tufts of missing fur peppered his dark brown tabby coat. He was hunched over, approaching Heron with amber eyes full of wisdom. "Travellers, eh?" Stoneteller croaked.

The dark ginger tabby nodded in response, "yeah, I'm looking for my brother,"

"And what about this one?" the Tribe cat inquired, pointing his tail at Jordan.

The blue-grey tom shrugged, "I'm his charming sidekick," he replied with a half smile.

Allen groaned inwardly upon hearing that. _This fucking kid. I swear to God_ , he fumed in his mind.

Stoneteller hummed in thought, "you can stay for the night," he spoke.

The dark ginger tom responded with a grateful tone, "thank you. Oh, yeah, I was told by Heron that my brother came through here. Does the name 'David' or 'Sparkpaw' sound familiar?"

Again, Allen waited with baited breath. While he already knew the answer, but like any information, it was good to multiple accounts conforming said information. Had this not been the case, he would have earned his engineering PhD without trying.

The Tribe leader paused for a second, "I couldn't forget him. After all, he was part of the group of cats who helped us slay Sharptooth," he replied fondly.

"Sharptooth?" He repeated.

Jordan chimed in, "like the t-rex in The Land Before Time?"

All cats present gave the young tom expressions of various emotions; both Heron and Stoneteller were lost and confused, as if he had started talking in a foreign language. Allen's bitter look told him everything he needed to know about what he was thinking.

Allen sighed, "ignore him. Just pretend he never opened his mouth." he meowed, sending a glare towards Jordan, "I was told my brother had a Clan with him. Got any idea what they are and where they are?"

The old cat answered, "They're a group very similar to our Tribe in some ways, yet they're vastly different in others. Their home had been destroyed, and they had rested here during their journey to find a new one. You're better off talking to Stormfur about it all. He, himself, was a Clan cat before he joined our Tribe."

"Great." he responded, "what's he look like?"

"Oh, you'll know him when you see him." smiled Stoneteller.

With that, Allen and Jordan gave their thanks and left to look for Stormfur; their only connection to this Clan. As they came closer to the mouth of the cave, the Tribe cats wearily came out of their hiding places to interact with the strangers. Allen remained undeterred from his objective, whereas Jordan mingled with them. But the elder of the two didn't particularly care that he went off task. It wasn't his brother he was looking for.

Something the dark ginger tabby noticed that almost all the Tribe cats were small and lean, with a few exceptions here and there. But none came anywhere close to the height of the blue-grey tom, who some cats were marvelling at. This would make this Stormfur character that much easier to find. He wasn't naturally born here, so it was safe to assume that he had a different build and height from the rest of the Tribe.

Still, going off of that alone wasn't enough. He had to narrow it down. With a name like 'Stormfur' odds are his pelt was grey. So that's what Allen looked for, eventually picking out a cat that fitted the appearance in his mind's eye. The said cat was in the outer rim of the crowd, unlike himself who was standing in the middle of it all. Allen pressed and pushed by the swarm of cats to reach the cat he believed to be Stormfur.

"Stormfur, right?" he meowed.

The cat turned to look at him. Allen knew immediately that he had his cat once his British accent rung out in his voice, "that's me,"

The ginger cat introduced himself, "name's Allen. You maybe knew my brother, David,"

It seemed as if a memory flashed before Stormfur's amber eyes. "Yes, I did,"

"Well how about me and you find somewhere private to chat." Allen meowed. In response, Stormfur nodded and they both sifted through the crowd, entering one of the narrow passageways on either side of the cave. In there, Allen found that it faintly smelled of milk. There must be some kind of nursery at the end.

"you look a lot different from David, you know." commented the Tribe cat, "I thought you'd both have similar pelts,"

The traveller responded, "yeah, we get that a lot." though he had no clue what his brother looked like. It was better to just play along. "What I wanna know is where his Clan is. I was told you used to be part of it,"

Stormfur shook his head, "no, I wasn't part of your brother's Clan. I was in RiverClan, and he's in ShadowClan,"

Allen frowned, "so how many Clans are there?"

"Four. The other two are WindClan and ThunderClan,"

"How do I know which is which?"

"ShadowClan took a pine forest as their territory, it wouldn't be hard to miss,"

"Could you take me there?"

"I can lead you out of the mountains. The Clans aren't far away from there on out,"

He let out a relieved sigh, "thank you, really. It's been killing me not knowing how he is or where he is,"

The Tribe cat nodded in understanding, "I know. My sister, Feathertail, is with RiverClan. I love the Tribe, but I hate not being able to see her," he frowned.

"Yeah, it feels like a part of you's missing, and you'll do anything to get it back,"

"Well, maybe not like that. But I know what you mean - it's been a long time since you've seen one another,"

"Yeah."

A thick silence fell between the two toms. Allen had acquired all the information he desire and didn't know what else to ask about. He offered his thanks once again, exiting the passageway out back out into the crowding cats. He saw that Jordan was still chatting away to some cats.

The sight of the younger tom caused him to start thinking about his powers. Clearly, he lacked control and confidence in using them, the same way someone who just learned to ride a bike would be. In the face of an uncertain future, Allen needed someone who he could rely on.

Whether Jordan liked it or not, that someone was him. But he needed practice. So the dark ginger tabby decided that they would wake up tomorrow bright and early to give him some much needed training. It would just be some light sparring, he didn't have enough neon in him to put the blue-grey cat through the ringer just yet. But that didn't make him a pushover by any means.

A sinister smile appeared on Allen's face. Jordan just entered boot camp and he wasn't even aware of it.


	5. 5 - Lights And Sounds (2 of 4)

Jordan had been skeptical about the notion that the little nooks and crannies the Tribe cats slept in would be comfortable. After all, how would some feathers make any difference to the comfortability of rock? He was happy to have been proven wrong. That was the most sound sleep he had since he arrived here.

Sometimes, he would be woken in the middle of the night with a start panting and heaving like he just ran a marathon. The tom's dreams had be chaotic blurs, all ending with a feeling of weightlessness. Allen didn't know about these night terrors. Jordan knew that the elder cat didn't like him all that much and he didn't need to think he was shaken up by some reoccurring nightmare.

The blue grey cat slept there in a happy, curled-up ball. He found the sounds of the waterfall outside therapeutic. He had never heard or seen a real-life waterfall until yesterday. If fact, he had never seen anything so naturally beautiful in his life. New York was home, but it wasn't spectacular with everything being a big grey rectangle.

It's why Jordan loved geography. Of course, a large part of it was about cities and people, but learning about land formations was what he signed up for because it was something he wasn't used to. Nature wasn't something he was accustomed to being around, especially not in the form of a cave like this. Had the river below eroded it out thousands of years ago? How had it been done so perfectly as to allow a group of cats to live here? This place was heaven for that part of him, but it was hell for the rest of him.

He felt a paw prod at his back suddenly, and he groaned inwardly. Jordan knew exactly who it was, he could tell be both the scent and the harshness of the poking. Allen has a strange scent, he smelt almost like something singed. Though he supposed it was better than his own, as cats weren't wrinkling their noses whenever they talked to the ginger tabby.

"C'mon, get it up. It's around nine and we're gonna do something." Allen spoke.

The blue grey cat mumbled, "how'd you know what time it is? We don't have clocks here."

"Trust me, I know. Now get up." he responded sternly.

"Okay." Jordan sighed, slipping out from the nook he had been resting in. He awkwardly stretched, "so what are we gonna do?" he grunted. His amber eyes spotted quite a few Tribe cats socialising with one another and feasting on eagles.

Allen looked from side to side, checking to make sure nobody was hearing. This caught the younger cat's attention. He meowed with a low voice, "I'm gonna help you get your powers under control."

He clumsily jumped to his paws, "what? Really?! Dude, thanks but my powers-"

"C'mon, I found somewhere earlier this morning." the dark ginger tabby replied, moving towards the mouth of the cave.

Jordan followed, anticipation and anxiety pricking at his paw pads. For two years he had gone without any support, now he was receiving it from a person he didn't expect to care. But he couldn't say he wasn't grateful. The first time his power had arisen was horrific, and even now he swore his blood pressure spiked any time they activated. Hopefully things would get better now. But he didn't trust himself in the slightest, perhaps he could talk Allen out of it.

Allen took him further down the mountain, going past where Heron and her group had found them yesterday and around the corner. Taking a steady path downwards, he took him to a spacious clearing of sorts. They were surrounded by large boulders which would be perfect for target practice. If that's how Jordan's power worked, anyways.

Allen turned around, facing him. "Okay, you obviously don't know what you're doing so we're gonna start off small, 'kay?"

"Yeah, sure." Jordan responded.

The elder cat sat on his hunches, "I want you to try and activate your powers. Like this," he reached out with his paw, and in a burst of light and colour his paw was enveloped in neon and it's aura climbed and twisted up his foreleg. "For the first few times, you're gonna have to think about your power and putting it in your hand like it's something you can hold. But give it time and you won't even have to think about it. It's like riding a bike."

The blue grey tom sat down, stretching out one of his forelegs. Awkwardly, he just looked at his paw. "Um. . .t-this isn't doing anything for me. I dunno if I wanna do this anyways, nothing good happens when my powers are used!" he protested.

Allen glared, "hey, don't chicken out on me!"

"What if someone see us, huh? They'll know we're metas!"

"I can if anyone's coming 'round the corner, dumbass! Did you think I didn't consider the Tribe?" he hissed in response. The dark ginger tabby saw Jordan's crestfallen expression, causing him to calm down. With a sigh, he spoke, "sorry. Look, I just want you to get a hold of your powers. I've been in your shoes before; I know your powers have you scared shitless right now, and the DHS and the AMRA's propaganda didn't help to feel good about yourself. But forget all that, neither of us are monsters and _you_ are in control, not your powers!"

Jordan was taken aback by the profound speech, but he knew Allen was correct. His fears were like anchors, weighing him. With a newfound resolve, he answered. "A'ight coach, show me the ropes."

"I can't 'til you hop on the bike, kid."

"What's with all the bike metaphors?" Jordan asked.

"Shut up and just do it already!"

The young cat closed his eyes, picturing his foreleg and paw in his mind's eye. He imagined that his paw was being surrounded by sound, coming in the form strange lines washing over it and distorting it's shape ever so slightly. It was accompanied by a low, but intense, humming. He opened his amber eyes to find that image in his mind had become a reality.

Jordan grinned, "cool." yet he was still weary of his powers. This was a huge step forwards for him, he could finally control his powers! A sense of pride and accomplishment was instilled in him.

As he put he put his foreleg back down, his paw made contact with the ground and his positive feelings were diminished. In response, the low humming from his paw suddenly became the violent bass from yesterday, except this time it was more violent and louder. It exploded, sending both cats flying. The tom cried out in fear as he was knocked back, landing with a 'thud.' The sound of the blast echoes through the mountains.

The young tom lay there in both shock and pain. His foreleg was numb and shaking, like the bones inside were vibrating from the blast. He knew something like this would happen, his powers were pure bad luck! The first time they ever activated, it broke his arm.

"Jesus! Did you have to go overkill!?" Allen shouted, his pained expression causing Jordan to feel worse than he already did. Despite only being a few meters away, he was speaking as if the younger cat was miles away.

"I didn't mean it!"

"What?"

"I said I didn't mean it! Look, I'll try again!" he tried activating and deactivating his sound powers at least a dozen times. The tom noticed that the intensity of the humming could change. _I guess t_ _hat means that the more it hums the stronger it is_ , he thought to himself. He guessed that whenever he unintentionally used it in the past that the intensity was random.

Allen shook his head, clearing the ringing from his ears. "You got it under control?" he inquired.

Jordan responded enthusiastically, "yeah, I got it!" those same positive emotions from before had returned. Finally, he knew what he was doing and, with that knowledge, his powers seemed less scary and abstract.

"Let's do a test run then."

"Test run?"

The blue grey tom didn't have time to process what happened. One minute he was sitting on his hunches, his eyes fixated on his paw; and then the next he was looking up at the sky, the air squeezed out of his lungs.

"Ooooh sorry, didn't mean to knock the wind outta you." Allen grimaced, helping the young cat back to his paws.

"W-what was that?!" sputtered Jordan.

"Me flooring you," the dark ginger tabby responded. Suddenly, there was an extremely brief flash of neon and then Allen was meters away from him. Jordan noticed there was a wispy trail of cooling purple-pink neon. He gulped. "Let's try that again." Allen spoke, a faint neon aura surrounding him.

The young tom had no time to react before he was upon him in a flash, a cooling trail of neon in his wake. Allen swung, catching him in the side of the head. Jordan yelped in surprise and stumbled back. _He's too fast!_ he thought, _what the hell am I supposed to do?!_

He went to swipe at the older cat, but he dodged and countered with an swift uppercut. "Have you ever actually been in a fight before?" Allen spoke.

Jordan didn't respond, putting distance between himself and the dark ginger tabby. No, he had never been in a fist (or paw) fight before in his life. The private school he went to was pretty strict in their policies. His parents would have skinned him alive had he been in a fight and his school would have most likely expelled him.

Again, the older cat closed the distance and began his assault. He realised the strategy now; Allen wasn't going to allow him any breathing room and any time Jordan would put distance between him, then he was going to speed right over. It was an endurance match, but Jordan couldn't go on for much longer. He was starting to get tired from all the dodging. Man, was he unfit.

The tom had to swallow his fear and use his powers already. _I've got them under control now I think, but I don't wanna get hurt,_ he grimaced mentally. _Just gonna have to bite the bullet_ , he braced himself as he slammed his paw on the ground. Jordan was launched backwards, the blast sending shockwaves up his foreleg.

He steadied himself as he landed, almost falling over. Allen, on the other hand, stumbled backwards. Hopefully that would deter the older cat from being so aggressive in future, yet Jordan had to keep on his toes. He didn't know fully what Allen was capable of; whereas Allen knew everything he was capable of. The blue grey tom would just have to get creative then.

He slammed both of his paws on the ground, launching him skyward. Jordan blinked rapidly, feeling his eyes drying out from the cold wind blowing through his fur. He began slowing down, and for the briefest of moments he was suspended in the air. He could see Allen below with a surprised expression. _This had better work_ , he thought to himself.

As Jordan fell to the earth, he readied himself for his attack. As the ground quickly became closer and closer, he smacked one of his paws to the ground - right beside Allen. While the elder cat was sent sprawling to the other side of the clearing, Jordan had been sent flying upwards, flopping onto his back when he landed. The blue grey tom groaned in pain. He really hadn't thought that out well. The tom heard Allen stumbling towards him, "were you trying to get yourself killed?!" he roared.

"I can't feel my arm." whined Jordan, shakily attempting to get to his paws. He didn't think he had broken any bones, so he had just given himself what was essentially severe pins and needles.

"Yeah? Well I'm not fuckin' surprised, you goddamn idiot!" the older tom spat, "what the hell were you thinking?!"

He gave a weak smile in response, "I thought I could get the drop on you. I gotcha good, didn't I?"

Allen just gave a frustrated sighed in response, pacing back and fourth. "Can you walk?"

Jordan hobbled around, "yeah, I'm good." his leg could still move, though it's movements was clumsy and uncoordinated.

"Ah, shit!" the dark ginger tabby muttered under his breath as he realised they had spent more time training the blue grey cat than originally planned, "you better be, because that's time to go. C'mon, Stormfur's waiting for us." Allen urged, swiftly moving for The Cave Of Rushing Water. The younger cat followed suit, clumsily chasing after them.

And so the hunt for Allen's brother was about to begin.


	6. 6 - Lights And Sounds (3 of 4)

Allen surveyed the massive expanse of land that Stormfur had led them to from their position on the mountain. It was separated from the mountains via a barrier of trees. Though that didn't affect how they would reach ShadowClan territory; it was only a matter of walking down the steadily declining slope to get to their destination.

In the centre was a lake with streams and a river feeding into it. At one end of the lake was what looked like a small dock. Another one was also nearby. Opposite of this dock was a farm with a stable with some marshland nearby. At least, that's what the ginger tabby thought it was; it was difficult to see clearly from a distance.

The land the farm had been built on largely consisted of sweeping hills and gorges with a road nearby. The plains extended to the east up to where the largest of the small docks was. A river ran through this part of the plains. Separated by a stream, there was a forest just as large as the plains to the north-west. Next to that forest was another one - the only one Allen had any interest in.

A pine forest with a cottage tucked away in the heart of it; ShadowClan territory. That was where David was living. Finally, after so long he would finally be able to see his brother again, to hear his voice again. Allen could weep, he was so close!

He mentioned towards the pine forest, "that's where ShadowClan live, right?"

Stormfur answered, "that's right, but be careful when you're on the territory; Clan cats aren't as friendly as the Tribe towards strangers - especially ShadowClan."

The tom nodded in understanding. _David fits right in, then,_ he thought dryly. He'd have to make sure he was as non threatening as he could possibly be. Which was going to be one hell of a test of patience for him. While Allen had kept his head down back in Detroit, that didn't mean he would let people talk down to him.

"What about the other ones?" Jordan chimed in. He then pointed at the forest next to ShadowClan territory with his numb paw, "who lives there?"

"That's ThunderClan territory," replied the Tribe cat, "the plains are WindClan territory, and the territory with river going through it is RiverClan."

Allen asked a question, "so, other than ShadowClan, what else do we need to worry about?"

The grey tom pointed with his tail towards ShadowClan territory, "you see that twoleg nest?"

The dark ginger tabby leered, "twoleg nest? You mean the cottage?"

Stormfur's expression twisted into one of confusion, "cottage?" he said slowly. His puzzled look quickly shifted to one of realisation, "oh, you're both loners. Well, a twoleg nest is what the Clans call a cottage. Be careful not too get too close because a twoleg is going to try to pick you up and make you a kittypet."

Both of the foreign cats gave one another a profoundly lost look. "Yeah. . .we'll keep that in mind." Jordan replied awkwardly. They both gave their thanks and farewells, setting off down the mountain.

They eventually passed a peculiar area. For the most part it wasn't different from the rest of the mountains, but some of the rock had deep gashes in them. The younger tom slowed down, curious as to their origin. But left them alone as Allen called on him to hurry up.

It took them an hour to travel down the mountain. For the first time both cats felt the sensation of grass underneath their paw pads. Allen pulled his paw back briefly, the ticklish feeling surprising him. But he placed it down again, doing his best to ignore it.

Jordan chuckled, "dude, I've never felt grass under my feet - or paws - before. It's so weird!" he prodded at the grass almost as if he was an infant.

The elder of the two agreed, "yeah, it is kinda weird."

Both cats continued their trek, padding through the woods they had seen from their vantage point earlier. The dark ginger cat could only liken it to a forest from some fantasy world. He was keenly aware that he was small. Aafter all, he was just a cat. But that didn't stop the oak and birch trees around them feeling like towering skyscrapers surrounding them. It was actually intimidating to him, there were plenty of animals bigger than a cat. Was this forest home to any of them?

Allen hoped not.

Their journey continued for another hour. Allen tried to ignore Jordan's persistent whining about his paws hurting and asking for rests. They were so close to finding his brother, like hell was he going to rest now! Despite how his paws ached and how his muscles burned, he pressed on.

He could have already been in ShadowClan territory had he used his powers, but there was a few issues with that; the first was that he didn't have enough neon left in him, the second was that he would be dead in a bloody, grisly explosion if he crashed into a tree. True, he had some amazing reflexes but he was still running at some impressive speeds. A third problem, though not a large one, was that he wasn't even running anywhere near the speed of light despite how it looked.

Nothing could reach the speed of light so long as it had mass. But he could never effectively find out how fast he was actually going, since it was impossible to measure with any kind of equipment (mainly because he didn't have any) or equation. Even if he could reach that speed, god knows what would happen. With his kind of luck, he'd either be ripped to pieces or the world would explode or something like that. Plus, as grating Jordan could be, he couldn't just ditch him like that.

Eventually, they exited the woods after another hour and were greeted by a hill. Allen's impatience got the better of him and he dashed up the hill, leaving a trail of cooling neon as he went. The tom slowed down, now at the top of the hill.

The blue grey cat he had left in the dust finally caught up with him, "okay, we're here," he huffed, "so now what?"

Allen pointed with his tail towards RiverClan territory. "We pass by the farm and go through RiverClan territory, then we find wherever ShadowClan are holed up in their own territory."

"What if we get caught?" Jordan inquired, "they've gotta have something like border patrol, right? And Stormfur said they're not friendly." he frowned.

He answered, "we just tell 'em the truth." of course there was a chance that they didn't care and chased them both out. Yet they took the risk, approaching the land that belonged to the wild cats after passing the farm. As they approached the border, Allen had to recoil from the acidic stench that assaulted his nose. It actually burned a little.

The younger cat gagged, "oh God, what's that smell?"

"Cat piss probably." Allen responded, continuously moving further away from the border as not be in the presence of the scent any longer.

"What?! Ewww!" Jordan shivered in disgust, following his companion's example.

The two toms continued their trek through the territory. The ground had an almost marsh-like quality to it, which made sense when Allen reminded himself that there was a river nearby. Maybe he had been wrong about RiverClan and WindClan sharing plains as their respective territories and perhaps they were sharing a marshland instead.

They eventually came across the river the Clan had obviously named itself after. Allen was thankful that it wasn't too violent a river, so they'd be able to cross. But how deep was it? If it was deep enough to swim in, then he wasn't going to risk it. When they were caught in the waterfall, Allen wasn't swimming - he was keeping himself and Jordan afloat. The younger cat probably didn't notice, but he was thrashing desperately to keep them afloat.

"I'm not swimming." Allen stated.

His compainion raised an eyebrow, "I thought you could swim," he murmured.

"Yeah, but I'm pretty bad at it. Swimming as a cat is different, y'know. Plus, you can't swim, Jordan." the dark ginger tabby pointed out.

"Maybe there's some rocks or something in the river somewhere? We could use them as stepping stones." offered Jordan. Both toms padded up the river, finding some spots of land - like tiny islands - in the river. Boldly, Jordan was the first to jump from the riverbank onto one of the spots of land. Allen followed his example and they were both soon on the other side of the river. They traveled through the rest of the territory without a hitch, passing over the border into ShadowClan territory.

The atmosphere was very different from the marshland, it was more oppressive thanks to the many pine trees providing an expansive blanket of shadow over the territory. The ground was completely covered in pine needles, the dusty brown earth underneath poking out in areas that weren't covered. "Well ShadowClan certainly lives up to the name." grumbled Allen.

"By the way, how are we supposed to find ShadowClan?" the blue grey cat inquired.

The dark ginger tabby froze in place, "fuck! I didn't ask where they live!" he fumed.

"Aw, it's okay. Maybe a patrol's gonna find us," Jordan reasoned.

He just huffed in response. "Yeah, maybe. Let's try and find their base or camp or whatever it's called." They both continued to wander aimlessly through ShadowClan territory. Allen was growing both more impatient and frustrated the longer they went without results. There was almost no sign of ShadowClan anywhere.

The dark ginger tabby growled in frustration, "okay, if they're not gonna come to us - we'll make 'em!" he leaned against a tree, aiming one of his forelegs to the sky as it was enveloped in neon.

"Wait!" Jordan protested.

"What? You got a better idea?" Allen scoffed, "Jordan, we've been here for two hours and we've got jack shit to show for it!"

The blue grey tom replied, "yeah, but remember we found that footpath and there was that weird smell?"

"Yeah, what about it?"

"Well I was thinking that maybe a group passed by there a while ago and maybe that's their smell," the younger cat offered.

Allen paused for a moment, reconsidering his options. Now that he was thinking about it, his own idea would bring disastrous consequences. Jordan's idea was infinitely better than his own. "Well, let's hope that it's still there."

After walking a short distance, they returned to the footpath. As Jordan had said, there was an odour in the air, though it was more faint that last time. But he could tell what direction it was coming from and so they followed. As they tracked the scent, Allen noticed that it was growing more and more pungent. The scent was at it's strongest once they approached a tangle of brambles and branches.

The dark ginger tabby was impressed. He wasn't expecting ShadowClan to have defences around the perimeter of their camp. Maybe he should start expecting a little more from these cats. He turned to Jordan, "how's your arm?"

"Yeah, it's good. You think we're gonna fight?" the younger tom anxiously responded.

Allen sighed, "I hope not. But c'mon, let's go." he mewed, crawling underneath the barrier of thorns and branches. He growled as his fur got caught in the brambles, yet he was thankful he didn't have long fur.

On the other side they were greeted with a clearing. To his left was a massive boulder, covering something. However, there was a a small gap between the rock and whatever it was guarding. Along the sides of the camp were structures, which Allen assumed were sleeping areas. It must be a big Clan if there was a need for five of them. There was also a hollow in the far corner to his right. There was also, for whatever reason, a pile of dead animals. He couldn't help but twist his features in disgust.

There was several cats going about their day-to-day lives, talking to one another, grooming themselves, there was even some kittens play fighting. Jordan awkwardly fidgeted, "um, Allen? What do we do now?"

"We go ask someone-"

"Intruders!" A ShadowClan cat yowled. All heads in the clearing whipped around towards the two foreigners in their camp. Some cats scrambled to get the kittens into one of the structures, while most of them charged towards them both.

Allen was suddenly struck with a primal fear. There was way too many for both of them to take on all at once. He suddenly became aware of something in the air; his own fear scent. Having several people come at you at once wasn't something new to him, but this was an angry, territorial mob coming to skin him alive.

"Waitwaitwait!" the dark ginger tabby frantically hollered, "we're just looking for someone! We're not intruders!"

A black-furred tom leapt towards him, "then get out!"

He allowed himself to be pinned, knowing that any form of retaliation would end in him facing the wrath of ShadowClan. He could feel the tom's hot, stinking breath against his neck as he bared his teeth, which Allen tried to keep as far away from as he possibly could. The cat could probably smell his fear, yet he kept a brave face on - Jordan needed to think he had it under control or his powers would go wild from his own intense panic.

Allen's hazel eyes flickered towards Jordan, seeing that he thankfully wasn't pinned but rather he had made himself as small as he possibly could. The young cat looked towards him with pleading amber eyes. He mouthed to him, "you're okay."

The elder of the two turned back to his assailant, but before he could say anything a powerful voice spoke. "Smokefoot, get off. I'll deal with these pieces of crow food,"

He knew that this voice belonged to the leader. It had to, no lackey would have a voice that commanded such respect and obedience. As Smokefoot slinked back into the crowd, Allen rose to his paws. He wanted to make a sarcastic remark, the grip fear had on him was disappearing for anger to take his place. That Smokefoot character had blantanty ignored him.

Now standing before him was a towering white cat, amber eyes glaring down at him. He was heavily scarred, each one telling of a past battle. His paws, each having an extra digit, were black, as were his ears. His white fur was short, showing the powerful muscles that were underneath off. Allen felt like a scrawny child before this cat.

"Get out of my camp and never come back, or you'll be an example of what happens when loners think they can make light of ShadowClan." he scorned.

"Oh, I'm not going anywhere, big guy," responded Allen, "not until I see my brother."

The white cat's eyes suddenly flashed. It looks like he reminded him of someone. The large cat growled, "you're _his_ brother, aren't you?"

"Yeah, so where is he? I was told by a cat called Stormfur he was part of ShadowClan," the dark ginger tabby informed. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that Jordan was no longer trying to make himself as small as possible - though he was still hunched over, his tail between his legs.

The ShadowClan leader snorted, "Stormfur? You couldn't have found a more ignorant cat!" he scorned, "Sparkclaw is no longer a ShadowClan warrior - he's now a soft-hearted ThunderClan cat."

Allen heard the hisses from the crowd that cornered him as their leader spoke his brother's Clan name. _David, what the hell did you do to piss them off?!_ he scorned mentally. He responded, "okay that's all I needed to know, we'll be going now." he began to turn around to exit the way they came in.

"Oh, I don't think so."

The ginger cat froze, turning back to face the massive tom. He knew immediately what that meant. He didn't have enough neon to take on so many cats at once, but he definitely had enough to put their leader down. Still, maybe they weren't about to try and lynch them both. "What?" he responded.

The leader scoffed, "if you think I'm going to just let you run around ShadowClan territory unsupervised then you're mouse-brained. A patrol will lead you to the ThunderClan border." he then listed off the names of five cats as the mob behind him dissolved.

Just as when the Tribe cats found them, a cat took up the front, two were at the side and back. The patrol lead both of them to the boulder, and three of the five ShadowClan cats slipped through the gap.

"Don't try anything funny, loner." one of them warned him.

"I was gonna say the same to you." Allen bit back, slipping through the gap. Jordan was next, followed by the two ShadowClan cats who took up the rear.

While most cats went back to their business, two watched with predatory eyes as they exited camp. The first cat was a tom with a skinny build, his dark grey fur was unkempt. His orange eyes were full of animosity and callousness. His neck and shoulders were covered in large, nasty burn scars. Smaller ones decorated his forelegs. The flesh in these areas was leathery with a purple-red colour.

The second cat was also a tom. Though, unlike his companion, he had a fit build. Also in contrast to his partner, his light brown tabby fur was neat. He had a lighter underbelly and muzzle. His body had small scars littered all over, but they did not part his fur. His own eyes were green, with one pupil larger than the other, and harboured cold cynicism.

The dark grey cat snorted, "there goes the element of surprise." his voice held a South African accent.

"We still have it, they don't know we're here." the tabby responded. He also held a foreign accent, a Canadian one.

He growled, "I could have burned them alive, it would have been so easy, too."

"And you would have killed all of our Clan, too, and started a forest fire. Tigerstar wants this place intact."

"So?"

"Tigerstar would kill you, if his little lap dog didn't."

The tom huffed, "how are they even here? Didn't we kill them?"

The other cat replied, "I don't know, and I don't care. Tigerstar will, though, but he's still putting himself back together. So we're just gonna have to kill them again, Lethabo."


	7. 7 - Lights And Sounds (4 of 4)

The ShadowClan patrol had led both Allen and Jordan to the border they shared with ThunderClan. A small footpath clearly separated the two territories, the boundary of both territories was further enforced by the mixing of two acidic stenches in the air. The patrol watched as they both ventured into the territory, disappearing into the trees.

Allen sighed as they padded across another footpath. He then turned to his companion, "hey, did you manage to pick out ThunderClan's scent? I couldn't pick it out." the tom inquired.

Jordan nodded, smiling. "Yeah, dude, you can count on moi." he responded.

The ginger tom smiled in return, relieved. "Thanks, man." there as a slight purr in his voice. For the first time since he landed here, he actually felt hopeful. David was so close, he'd soon find him and he'd be happy again.

"Hey, Allen. Can I ask you something?" Jordan mewed.

"Shoot."

"What's your brother like?"

Nostalgia flashed in Allen's hazel eyes, "God, where do I start? David. . .David was a little shit since forever and I can't stress that enough; startin' fights at home, school, petty crimes. He was just a douche." he explained.

The younger tom recoiled, "Oh, no offence but no wonder ShadowClan didn't react well to his name."

He brushed it off, "yeah, don't worry about it, I think I had something to do with it anyways." Allen admitted, his ears pressed flat against his head as he averted his friend's gaze.

Jordan look at him inquisitively, "why?"

The dark ginger tabby sighed, "this is personal, so bear with me," he warned. He inhaled through his nose, hoping to calm the building frustration inside him as he exhaled slowly. Allen could feel Jordan's sympathetic gaze on him, "when I was seven, my dad walked out on us. We didn't have enough money as it was, so after he left we were living from pay check to pay check,"

He could feel the anger continuing to build, "I had to watch as my ma worked herself to the bone and it drove me crazy! So I took it out on others, I was on par with David because I was so awful until I straightened myself out at thirteen." the anger subsided, being replaced with guilt and it carried out into his voice as he lowered it, "I'm sure David saw his older, piece of shit brother thought that was an okay way to act. Hell, I encouraged him sometimes."

The younger cat remained silent, thinking of what to say. "Hey, it's cool you managed to set yourself straight though." he meowed.

"Yeah," Allen murmured half-heartedly. They continued walking in silence until they came across an area that was more heavily wooded than anywhere they had been in ThunderClan previously. "Hold on." Allen meowed, placing a paw against the rough bark of a tree, "I think I can climb this tree, I might be able to see ThunderClan camp if I get to the top,"

"Uh, sure," Jordan replied, "just don't cry for me to come get you down, 'kay?" he teased, playfully nudging his companion.

Allen rolled his eyes in response, putting a second paw against the tree. He allowed his claws to get a decent grip on the bark before pushing himself upwards, allowing his hind claws to get a grip too. Slowly, he began climbing. Back in Detroit, he had to deal with the consequences of his past actions after he set himself straight. Groups of the kids he had tormented would come to hound him, full of resentment, and jump him. It had forced him to get good at climbing things such as high fences unless he wanted to get beaten. Eventually, he had made it to the upmost branch that could support his weight.

Off in the distance not far from their current position, he could see what seemed to be a quarry (or something similar). It looked to him like a good place to call home. Allen called down to his friend, "there's a quarry not far ahead, I think it's maybe ThunderClan camp."

"Great! Think you can get down quickly?" Jordan responded, "like, with neon?"

Allen frowned, "I don't know, and I'm not gonna find out. I think I'm out anyways," he began his descent towards the ground, jumping down from the lower most branch and landing with a grunt. The tom was still unsteady and unaccustomed to his body.

The two cats continued onwards, drawing ever closer to their destination. The elder of the two travelers felt his heartbeat beginning to pick up, anticipation prickling at his paw pads at the thought of seeing his brother again. It had been too long, and he had so much to tell him about.

He had so much to talk about. The thought brought fourth a heart wrenching longing for home. Allen had tried to resist thinking about home and those he left behind - or was forced to part with, rather. He knew that it would send him into a spell of depression, which it was starting to do right now. In response he forced himself to think about David, what kind of life had his little brother made for himself?

Allen's musings were interrupted as someone crashed into him, causing him to stumble. He gave a warning hiss, "watch where you're going, Jordan!" only he realised it wasn't Jordan, who was standing on the opposite side of where the collision occurred.

The cat who crashed into him was a black cat, staring up at him with wide green eyes. They had a slender build, which was covered by their long, fluffy fur. Allen realised pretty quickly that they were probably still young, just beginning to reach maturity, despite almost being the size of a full grown cat. He recalled how his roommate had two cats, one around five years old and the other around six months old, and how they were of a similar size.

Another cat a little taller than the black cat, this one a golden tabby, burst through the bushes. Like the other cat, their fur was also fluffy. But he could tell with this cat that it was ruffled and dirty, like they just escaped from a scrap. Their eyes, too, were wide.

They were wide with fear - both of their eyes were. He could taste their fear-scent in the air now that he had noticed, before he could ask what was wrong the black cat squeaked, "s-sorry!"

The golden tabby skidded to a halt as he saw both Allen and Jordan. "Hey man, take it easy we're just looking for ThunderClan." The blue grey tom reassured him.

Allen spoke up, "what happened to you two?" he asked with concern. Briefly, he turned to his companion with a look that said _'I'll handle this.'_

The black cat squeaked again, trembling, "w-we just wanted to help!" she sobbed.

"Woah woah, slow down," the dark ginger tabby responded, trying his best to keep them calm, "start from the beginning."

"There was fox cubs, a-and we wanted to h-help, a-and th-they were t-too big a-a-and-" the golden tabby rambled, which was cut short by a rustling in the bushes. Both of the younger cats fell deathly silent, their ears pressed flat against their heads.

Allen looked towards Jordan, who also looked spooked by the cats' reaction. There was a new, foreign scent in the air which must have belonged to the foxes. He didn't know the size of the fox cubs, but they had to be bigger than the two younger cats. "Let's split up and hope we lose 'em." he commanded.

"Y-you're loners!" the tabby protested, "how can we trust you?"

He leered, "it's either us or the foxes. Take your pick, kid."

The kitten said nothing in response, silently picking the loners over the fox cubs.

Allen took off with the black she-kit in one direction, Jordan took off with the tabby tom in the other. The blue grey tom thought to himself on ways to calm him down, his fear-scent was potent and was maybe blocking out the smell of the foxes. He turned to him as they ran, flashing him a friendly smile, "so you're from ThunderClan, right?"

"Y-yes," the tom replied shakily.

"Nice, what's your name?"

"Lionkit."

"Lionkit? How come your name's so different from the other cats I've met; like Stormfur?"

"That's because I'm not an apprentice yet, I'm still in the nursery so I'm 'Lionkit.' But I'm going to be an apprentice really soon, so I'll be called 'Lionpaw!' Then I'll get my warrior name!" Lionkit replied, fear fading from his voice and in it's place was anticipation.

 _He's a kitten!?_ Jordan thought to himself, bewildered. He thought he was just a young warrior. Even though his surprise flashed across his face, he kept his warm expression. "That's so cool!" he grinned, then a thought suddenly hit him, "hey, do you know someone called-"

"-Fox!"

The blue grey tom whipped around to see a large fox cub charging towards them. It was big, probably on the brink of maturity. They both froze in place and Jordan could feel his heart quickening and fear within him intensifying. It was getting closer and closer, yet he was unable to move - he was frozen stiff with fear. Until he swallowed his fear, forcing himself to push Lionkit out of the way. Jordan could have saved himself, but his parents didn't raise a selfish child.

After moving the kit out of harm's way, he aimed to barrel a blast of sound into the fox. it wasn't intense enough to kill, but it would hurt like hell. Yet the fox cub bowled him over before he could do anything, pinning him to the ground. It snarled, trying to rip out Jordan's throat as he desperately struggled to keep it away. The blue grey tom could hear the blood roaring in his ears as he hyperventilated and struggled to keep himself alive.

This was a situation he couldn't win in, not easily anyways. If he used his powers, then Lionkit would run off terrified and would tell ThunderClan about what he saw, then him and Allen were done for. He also had to keep Lionkit safe, but how could he do that when he was trying to save himself? Jordan wasn't a superhero.

Jordan gagged, the rancid breath of the fox burning his nostrils. "Ugh! W-what did your mom feed you? Your bad manners?" his quip made him feel less afraid, like he was somehow in control of the situation. Lionkit must think that too if he was able to laugh in the face of danger, even when danger was close to ripping his throat out.

It gave him a newfound courage. With the help of his hind legs, Jordan forced the fox cub off of him. The young tom gasped as the fox's claws sliced through his shoulders as it was thrown off him. Blood welled from his stinging wounds as he stood up, yet he continued the illusion of control, "c'mon, I've had paper cuts worse than this!" he taunted.

The fox cub snarled, its bushy tail lashing furiously behind it before it once again charged. He quickly developed a plan that would still allow him to use his powers without exposing himself. Jordan readied himself, lifting one of his paws above the ground slightly. "I don't know if fox is a dish..." he started.

The fox came within range, and Jordan swiftly clobbered it across the face. It went tumbling backwards and crumpling to the cold dirt underneath. The sound generated by the smack was barely above a whisper, thanks to the sound being in destructive interference, but in turn it had been weaker than he hoped it would be. The blue grey tom took a mental note of it.

"But you still got served!" he triumphantly cried, though he was cringing to himself mentally. He could already hear Allen groaning and, to be truthful, he couldn't blame him this time. That was a painful one liner.

Lionkit gasped in awe, "how did you do that?!"

Jordan stammered, "I, uh, never skip leg day?"

There was a sudden rustling in the bushes again, and Jordan reluctantly readied himself for another fight. He was expecting a second fox cub, but instead a cat emerged from the bushes. Followed by another, and another; some of the cats were broad-shouldered and muscular, others were slender, some were around the height of Lionkit and others were even taller than Jordan. It was a ThunderClan patrol, no doubt. He could tell by the scent and how Lionkit suddenly went from awe-stricken to guilt-ridden.

A large brown tabby, even larger than himself, approached Jordan after surveying the scene. He then flicked his tail to the group in what must be a signal, two cats moving to deal with the fox cub. "Thank you, loner, for protecting Lionkit," the tom dipped his head, "ThunderClan won't forget this soon."

The young tom, with a half smile, dipped his head in response. He assumed that it was a sign of respect or gratitude. It reminded him of his time of Tokyo and how polite the people were. This would have been considered a polite gesture. "Ah, it's not problem," Jordan replied, flustered, "but if you got anybody who could patch me up that'd be great!"

The brown tabby answered, "our medicine cat will tend to your wounds," he turned to Lionkit, glaring. The kitten shrank away from his gaze, ears flat against his head. "As soon as we find Hollykit and Jaykit." he glowered.

Jordan chimed in, "my friend's with one of them! Follow me!" he then began leading the patrol in the direction in which he came, following Allen's scent.

Allen panted, swaying slightly from left to right and back again. He kept his hazel eyes, smouldering with rage, fixed on the fox cub before him. It snarled at him, looking for weaknesses in his defence and was determined to get the cat he was protecting. It had tried diligently to do so, but it had only been met with the dark ginger tabby's claws. Blood stained its fur from numerous cuts.

But Allen was much worse for wear; his right ear was partly torn, there was a vicious bite mark on his left shoulder, and he was coated with numerous lacerations. Yet, his tail was draped protectively over Hollykit who stood behind him. The tom refused to let her be the fox cub's prey, even when he could run now and save himself.

He had been at a disadvantage from the start; he was in unfamiliar territory, currently powerless, he had questions that were racing through his head that he wanted to ask the kitten and it was distracting him, and he had keep said kitten safe and away from the fox while he fought it off. Allen was against the ropes, and it could see that.

The tom gave a warning growl, as the fox took a step forwards he took a step backwards. Allen could hear Hollykit behind him whimpering. He needed a plan, but everything he thought of would be relying on him being on his game - which he wasn't. Even if Allen was, the worst case scenarios he was envisioning made him too sick to risk enacting any plan he devised.

Hopefully, the fox would get bored and leave them alone. It took another step closer, to which Allen gave another, louder warning growl. His fur was bristling and his back was arched. The tom dropped all his hostility as a clowder of cats burst through the bushes, Jordan leading the charge.

They chased off the fox cub, but several cats stayed behind while the others continued the hunt. The one cat that stood out to him was a massive brown tabby, with focused amber eyes and rippling muscles underneath his short coat.

"Jordan!" Allen called breathlessly, "she's safe! Hollykit's safe!"

Jordan gasped, "Allen!" he cried, rushing over to him. The blue grey tom looked around frantically, "someone help him!"

The dark ginger tabby shook his head, "I'm okay, I'm okay. It's just a few scratches." though he deeply appreciated the concern.

The large brown tabby cat marched over to Hollykit, fuming. The kitten shrunk back from him in response, "where's Jaykit!?" he snarled.

"I-I don't know, Brambleclaw! Me and Lionkit didn't see where he ran off to!"

Brambleclaw gave an impatient hiss, turning back to the clowder. "Spread out and find Jaykit! Thornclaw, Berrypaw, take the two loners and the kits back to camp!" he ordered. As they spread out, three cats approached them.

The first was a golden brown tabby with green eyes, he had a lighter underbelly and toes. He was an older cat, full of battle experience, which could be seen in his eyes and by the way he carried himself. He assumed that this was Thornclaw.

The other cat was obviously younger, most likely younger than Jordan, which was evidenced by his thick and fluffy cream fur. Allen grimaced a little at the sight of his stumpy little tail - what could have happened there? He had brown eyes, full of curiosity for the two foreign cats. This was Berrypaw, he decided.

The third cat was the kitten from before, though he looked a lot less scared and a lot more guilty.

Allen reluctantly removed his tail from Hollykit. He knew that this was her Clan, but still he felt a connection to the black cat. The tom didn't know exactly why, maybe it was because his instincts told him to protect her.

"Firestar is going to kill you two for sneaking out." Berrypaw mewed, causing the two kittens to look to one another guiltily.

"Sorry." Hollykit meekly responded.

Thornclaw snapped, "sorry isn't enough! The whole Clan is worried sick _and_ these two need medical attention because of you!" he growled in frustration, "c'mon, let's take you all to camp."

Allen and Jordan began following the two cats, Lionkit and Hollykit reluctantly joining them. The younger tom let his companion lean against him as they walked. But the dark ginger tom's wounds didn't seem to sting, like they weren't even there. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears, quickening with each step they took closer to ThunderClan camp.

 _I'm coming, David,_ Allen thought to himself, _don't worry - I'm almost there!_


	8. 8 - Hey, Brother (1 of 2)

Allen could hear his heartbeat thundering in his ears, like a war drum, as he and the others began entering the thorn tunnel to get to ThunderClan camp. The tom was shivering with his fur bristling and his mind racing. David almost literally right in front of him now, so close he couldn't believe it.

"Are you okay there, loner?" Thornclaw inquired with concern. Berrypaw distanced himself from Allen wearily, looking towards Jordan for some form of reassurance that the cat wasn't about to go berserk or drop dead or the like.

The blue grey cat answered, "him? He's just excited is all, his brother joined you guys." he explained.

"His name's Sparkclaw." Allen added, his voice trembling.

"Sparkclaw?" both Thornclaw and Berrypaw repeated, their eyes flashing with recognition. For a moment, the dark ginger tabby's heart sank. Had David been exiled from ThunderClan, too?

"That's our father!" Lionkit exclaimed. His demeanour had changed yet again, all of his guilt had temporarily melted away to enthusiasm. The look in the kitten's amber eyes and his reaction told Allen just what kind of relationship they had. Lionkit suddenly became self conscious as he saw the loner's reaction.

Allen stared, wide eyed with shock and his mouth hanging agape. He was sure that his heart had completely stopped when he heard that. He looked from Lionkit to Hollykit and back. "What?" he mewed quietly. This was his nephew and niece? But David was only seventeen! But, then again, these two kittens were nearly fully mature, probably around twelve or thirteen (in human years) going by their voices and mannerisms. Age obviously worked differently for cats.

It was giving him a headache thinking about it. He just opted to turn away and attempt to tear into the camp, he knew David was here and that's all he wanted to think about - he could process the fact he was an uncle later. But Allen's wounds had taken their toll, causing him to stumble as he tried to run from Jordan's side. The bite on his shoulder flared up, causing him to grit his teeth in pain.

"Easy!" Thornclaw hissed, helping him to his paws, "your brother's not going to go anywhere anytime soon," the warrior mewed, allowing him to lean against him as they continued to walk. He gave the two kittens a sharp glance, "he's got those two to deal with."

They both lowered their heads in guilt.

As the group entered camp, Allen had to squint his eyes a little at the light. He was right about ThunderClan taking the quarry as their home, the tall cliffs sheltering the camp like giant earthly curtains. There was large cracks and crevices in the walls of the quarry, large enough to fit cats in, they probably used them as dens, and they were covered in shrubbery and brambles. There was a rock that jutted outwards.

But Allen hardly paid any attention to the camp, frantically scanning the crowd of curious cats for his brother. It was in vain, he didn't even know what his brother looked like. Just like ShadowClan, they had been going about their daily business tough it took them less time to notice them due to Thornclaw yowling.

"Leafpool!"

Out of one of the dens, a brown tabby head stuck out. The cat's amber eyes fell on Thornclaw, along with the rest of the group. They exited the den, padding over briskly towards them. Leafpool was small and lithe, with white paws and a white chest.

"What happened to them?" Leafpool inquired, looking towards the Thornclaw and Berrypaw. But before either of them could speak, a familiar voice screeched out in the quarry. Allen's heart again began thundering in his chest.

"Where are they?!"

It was his brother. Even though Allen had never heard such fury in his brother's voice, a smile couldn't help but appear on his face. Excitement, longing, happiness, and all sorts of emotions coursed through his being like a hurricane. He felt light headed and his heart felt like it was going to explode, there was butterflies in his stomach tying it in knots. Allen tried to cry out of David, but he could barely form words.

Two cats shifted through the crowd. The first to emerge was a slender, dark ginger she-cat with a bushy tail and one white paw. In her green eyes were two things; relief and disappointment. Both Lionkit and Hollykit made themselves as small as possible at he sight of her. This must be their mother, and Allen's sister-in-law.

Then David - or Sparkclaw rather - emerged. His brother was a brown tabby cat with a white underbelly, lean and fit. His right shoulder bared a particularly nasty scar, and his left ear was nicked and torn in places. He had never seen such fury in his brother's face. But just like the she-cat, there was some relief too. If it was even possible, the kits made themselves even smaller at the sight of their father.

"You two!" Sparkclaw bellowed, shivering with rage, "you two are so much trouble!"

"We're so disappointed in you!" the she-cat added.

"W-we were just trying to help, we thought-" Hollykit responded.

"If you _had_ thought you would've stayed in camp like Brambleclaw told you to!" he roared.

"We're sorry." Lionkit meekly replied.

"Sorry isn't good enough." scorned his mother.

Allen tried to gather his bearings. His brother was standing right there in front of him, unaware this his older brother was watching him scold his kittens. The warrior whipped around, "where's Jaykit?" he demanded. The tom didn't sound as nearly as wrathful as he did just seconds ago.

Allen saw both Berrypaw and Jordan look away, fearing that they might be the ones being questioned. He could only give them a sympathetic look, this was just how his brother was. Thornclaw met his gaze, "there's a patrol out looking for him right now, we'll find him soon enough." he responded.

Sparkclaw gave an impatient hiss, but said nothing. He again turned around to give the kits another scolding. But he was intercepted by another cat, this cat was about the size of Jordan or an inch taller. He had short, ginger tabby fur which accented his muscles underneath. His green eyes held wisdom, and they made Allen feel calm.

Like Blackstar, he knew immediately this was a leader from how he spoke. But unlike the ShadowClan leader, his voice didn't command respect - hell, it didn't even sound like it was asking for it! And yet it got respect anyway, even if it was just a sliver of it. "That's enough, Sparkclaw. I know they are your kits, but I'll deal with them." he meowed.

Sparkclaw grunted, taking a step back from the leader. The she-cat pressed against him, giving him a lick on the cheek. In turn, he sighed and rested against her. Allen moved towards his brother, only to stumble. He immediately got back up, ignoring how light his head felt and the pain in his wounds. "David!" he cried hoarsely.

His brother stood rigid for a moment, remembrance flashing in his eyes. He slowly turned in the direction of the voice along with the she-cat. "A-Allen?" Sparkclaw meowed, his voice soft and shaking.

The she-cat looked surprised, but a smile then tugged at the end of her lips. It looks like Sparkclaw had told her about him. "Is that-?"

"Allen!" Sparkclaw cried, all the negative emotions he had suddenly faded away. He bounded over to his brother, affectionately nuzzling him and purring loudly. Allen also purred loudly, placing one of his paws on his brother's back. They both sobbed happily amidst the purring. There were a few murmurings in the crowd of cats.

"It's a family reunion!" Jordan whispered to Berrypaw, who simply flicked his ear in acknowledgment at his quip.

Sparkclaw pulled away, sniffling, "Al, I-I can't believe it!"

"Me neither," responded Allen, wobbling. He tried to regain his footing, but again stumbled.

"Okay, it's time to take you to the medicine den. You can catch up later on." Leafpool urged, allowing the dark ginger tom to lean against her for support. She led him into the medicine den to treat his wounds.

Berrypaw turned to Jordan, "you should probably go too, loner. Those are some nasty cuts you got there."

Jordan was suddenly reminded that he was also bleeding, the stinging of his lacerations further reminding him. He brushed it off, "nah, I'm good. It's just some scratches, you know?"

"Those 'scratches' are going to get infected if you don't get them looked at." Thornclaw leered.

The loner grimaced, "yeah, but won't I need to wait a while? Allen's pretty beat up."

The warrior responded, "Leafpool's a skilled medicine cat, you won't be waiting for long."

Jordan nodded in response, looking towards Lionkit and Hollykit. They stood up straight, but looked towards the ground in shame as they were scolded by the Clan leader and their parents. Sparkclaw seemed less angry now, which the blue grey cat was thankful for. That guy was scary. Yet, he felt as if he should go over and defend them. They only wanted to help, but he knew it wasn't appropriate if he did so.

Suddenly through the thorn tunnel came the ThunderClan patrol, carrying a skinny grey tabby with them. Jordan held his breath as he saw the body, as did the three cats scolding Lionkit and Hollykit. The parents suddenly rushed over, "Jaykit! Brambleclaw, is he okay?!" the she-cat demanded, her desperate and pleading tone wrenched his heart.

The cat that had shown him gratitude earlier, Brambleclaw, replied. "He's out cold and badly hurt, but he's alive." he responded. The patrol then took him into the medicine den. It was Sparkclaw's turn to comfort her. The crowd muttered with concern.

The ThunderClan leader turned away from the two kittens with a firm "you stay right there." and he moved towards Jordan, flicking his tail towards the clowder which caused them to disperse. Both Thornclaw and Berrypaw dipped their heads respectfully and the loner copied them. He then dismissed the two toms, leaving just himself and the loner.

"So, you're one of the two loners who rescued Lionkit and Hollykit, yes?" he spoke.

Jordan nodded, "y-yessir, my name's Jordan." he introduced.

"I'm Firestar, the leader of ThunderClan," Firestar introduced, "I must thank you for keeping them safe. If it weren't for you two, I don't think they'd be getting scolded right now." he meowed.

The reality of the situation hit the young tom like a ton of bricks, and he shivered. If it wasn't for them, who knows what could have happened? "Y-yeah," he agreed, lowering his head shyly. Jordan was shocked as he felt a tongue, like a brush, go through the fur on the top of his head.

He looked up, wide eyed at Firestar. "ThunderClan thanks for you for your bravery, Jordan. Those might have been just cubs, but you could've easily been killed yourselves." he murmured.

The young tom looked awe struck, did the leader of ThunderClan just commend him? He could feel blood rushing towards his face at the realisation, he gave a sheepish smile in turn, "thanks!"

Firestar gave a low purr, "you know, you remind me of someone," he commented, "come, let's see how your friend is doing. I can't just praise you alone, can I?"

Jordan just laughed, following the ginger tom, "well, I wouldn't complain."

* * *

 **About time, eh? Allen finally meets his brother after 8 chapters and Jordan is just happy to be here. I could've just started the story off with them both waking up on ThunderClan territory, but I wanted to do something different _and_ I wanted to develop their characters some.**

 **Also something important I'd like to point out; I completely buggered what season _The Sight_ is set in (winter, not summer) so I fixed that problem in case it's presents any problems e.g the fact it's winter might be a plot point.**

 **And thanks to everyone who's reading this, it's greatly appreciated :^)**


	9. 9 - Hey, Brother (2 of 2)

Jordan followed Firestar into the den, the one where both Allen and Jaykit were residing. The den was a crack in the quarry wall and, luckily, it was along the ground and not elevated like some of them were. When the young cat ducked underneath the curtain of shrubbery, his nose was met with a potent scent. He wrinkled his nose and took a coughing fit.

The ThunderClan leader rested his tail tip on his shoulder in a sign of reassurance, "it _is_ a strong scent, isn't it?"

"That's one way to put it." sputtered Jordan. He could see that there was a crack in the wall, which the stench seemed to be coming from. The den itself was a decent size, able to house a number of cats at once, evidenced by the fact there was four different cats in what looked like beds of moss.

In one of them, there was a golden brown tabby tom with a scar on his flank, coughing and sputtering. When his amber eyes fell on the ginger cat, he dipped his head in greeting after he recovered.

In a second bed, was a glossy light brown tabby tom. When he saw Firestar, he also went to offer him a greeting but began wheezing instead. Jordan frowned with concern, hoping that they both would recover.

Allen and Jaykit were on the other side of the den, away from the two coughing cats. The kitten was still unconscious, laying in one of the beds. Allen was in the last bed, his wounds being treated and dressed by the tabby she-cat who had escorted him into the den.

The she-cat turned to face her Clan leader and the loner, flicking her tail in greeting at the latter before returning to her task. Allen looked towards Firestar, sizing him up, "you're ThunderClan's leader, right?"

"That's right. I'm Firestar," he confirmed. Firestar then turned towards the she-cat, "Leafpool, do you have room for one more?"

Leafpool frowned, "I'm running out of nests, how are your wounds?" she inquired.

Jordan answered, "yeah, they're not deep. I'm not like the mummy-man over there."

The four Clan cats just stared at him, lost and confused. Suddenly self conscious, he could feel himself growing hot underneath his fur. The blue grey cat awkwardly shuffled his paws. He forgot nobody was going to get his jokes.

"Ignore him. Just. . .ignore him." Allen meowed bleakly. The two sick cats shook their heads, muttering something about loners in the process.

Firestar cleared his throat, "so, what's your name?"

"Allen," the dark ginger tabby introduced, "ow! Be careful!" he suddenly spat. Jordan realised how tense he looked, as if he was expecting either cat to try to attack him. Did he dislike being touched? Or did he simply not trust them?

Leafpool replied patiently, "I need to apply these herbs so that bite doesn't get infected."

"Thank you, Allen, for protecting Lionkit and Hollykit. If it weren't for you two, I don't think they would be alive." Firestar meowed. Again, Jordan shuddered at the thought of what would've happened if they hadn't been there.

Allen frowned, looking towards the unconscious Jaykit. "I couldn't help my nephew, though." he murmured.

"You couldn't have known about him," the ThunderClan leader reassured, "he'll recover just fine; Leafpool's a gifted medicine cat." but the answer didn't seem to satisfy the dark cat. Leafpool had now finished treating Allen's wounds, turning her attention to Jordan and began repeating the process.

 _Oh, so she's like a doctor? Cool,_ the young tom mused. Once again he had found himself impressed by these feral cat groups. He sat still as the medicine cat went to work, applying some sort of lumpy paste to his back and the scent of herbs assaulted his nose. The warm and unpleasant sensation made him shiver and the smell made him gag, he heard the she-cat ask him softly if he was okay, which he responded to with a nod. After his wounds had been coated, Leafpool began applying cobwebs to them. Leafpool's touch was soft and gentle, perhaps even motherly.

Firestar was right, she is gifted.

He heard Leafpool murmur to him, "are you a Tribe cat? You don't sound similar, but you've got their scent all over you."

Jordan answered, "nope, but we rested in their cave for a night. They're real friendly, you know."

"I see. They were quite welcoming when we were on the journey."

The loner moved to leave his nest, but Leafpool left Jordan's side and gently pushed him back down. Again, Allen tensed up, "sorry, but I don't like being touched." he meowed passive-aggressively. Leafpool muttered an apology in response.

One of the sick cats growled, "mind your manners, loner. She doesn't have to heal you!"

The dark ginger tabby spat back, "I just don't like being touched, alright? Keep talkin' like that and a cough's gonna be the least of your worries."

"That's enough, you two." Firestar glared. Neither cat said anything else, but chose to glare coldly at one another.

 _Looks like I was right,_ Jordan thought, _why doesn't he like being touched though?_ he pondered.

The dark ginger tabby turned back to the ThunderClan leader. "So how has my brother been?" he inquired, his tone softer than before.

Firestar smiled, "Sparkclaw is a fine warrior, I don't think I've ever seen a cat with such spirit!"

Allen smiled a little in response, "that's good, growing up he was such a troublemaker."

The ThunderClan leader gave an amused purr, "that doesn't surprise me."

The loner nodded, looking towards the medicine cat den entrance, "how long has my brother been with you guys?" he inquired.

"Around eleven moons now, give or take." answered Firestar.

Allen turned back to the ginger cat, looking him in the eye, "so, do you have room for another cat or two?" all of the Clan cats present seemed to be taken aback by the forward question, except Firestar.

The ThunderClan leader replied, "I was wondering when you were going to ask that."

Jordan was wondering that, too. After all, ThunderClan is where his family was - even if he only just found out about that family today. But the bond between kin had already formed, he could relate to that as most of his family lived in Japan; while Jordan hadn't met them often, he still loved them like he ought to.

Firestar continued, "Clan life isn't for everyone, are you sure? We've had warriors in the past who decided it wasn't for them."

With determination, Allen lifted his chin, "I can take whatever you throw at me."

He nodded, "I see," he muttered. Firestar turned his attention to Jordan, "and what about you, Jordan?"

The medicine cat had finished patching him up and muttered a 'thank you' to her as she went to deal with the two sick cats, he directed his gaze back to the ginger tom. "Well, yeah. I don't have anywhere else to go, a-and I think I should repay you for your. . .uh, kindness."

Firestar nodded with a slight smile, "well, I'll announce your arrival soon. Until then, I have some decisions to make - and some kits to continue scolding." he spoke, moving to exit the medicine cat den. Leafpool also gave the two sick cats the all clear, but they were to return if their cough worsened. She then when to check on the unconscious kitten.

Allen sinked into his nest, huffing to himself. Jordan wondered what he was thinking about, something had flashed in his hazel eyes which darkened them. But as Sparkclaw entered the den they brightened. "Hey, D!" he greeted.

The tom greeted his older brother with a smile, "hey, Al," he meowed, "that fox really done a number on you, huh?"

He laughed, "can't believe I got my ass handed to me by a _cub_!"

Sparkclaw purred in response until he saw his son, laying unconscious in a nest. With a dark frown, he turned to Leafpool, "will he be okay, Leafpool?"

The medicine cat nodded, "yes, he's lucky he's alive."

The father sighed, solemnly nodding his head in agreement. "Yeah, he is."

Jordan left the medicine den, deciding that this was a family matter he would have no part of.

"Why didn't Squirrelflight come in with you?"

"She's terrified you'd say he wasn't going to make it."

Allen chimed in, "is Squirrelflight your wife, D?"

"Wife?" echoed Leafpool.

"'Wife' is just another word for 'mate' where me n' Al come from." Sparkclaw explained.

Leafpool simply nodded her head in understanding.

The tabby tom turned back to his brother, grinning. "Yeah, she is. She's been dying to meet you too; same with the kids."

Allen looked up at his brother, speechless and touched. He had always known his younger brother had looked up to him, but he hadn't realised the full extent of it until now. David thought the world of him, selling his older brother as hard as he could to his family. He let out a throaty purr, "ditto."

Sparkclaw smiled in response, pressing his head against older brother's shoulder. The loner concluded that it had to be a friendly gesture amongst the Clan cats. "I missed you so goddamn much." he murmured.

"I missed you, too," Allen responded, laying his chin on the warrior's shoulder. He closed his eyes, content. He felt like a whole person once again, embracing the sibling after thinking he'd never see him again. But at what cost? His mother was all alone, believing her two sons were dead. That reality struck him like a lightning bolt, making his heart skip a beat. He refused to let it show, for David's sake - he had his own family to be concerned about.

 _She's a tough old bird, she'll be fine,_ Allen reassured himself. He pulled away from his brother, "so, am I gonna meet my sister-in-law or what?" he asked. Hopefully, it'd take his mind off the harsh reality of what he had left behind.

Sparkclaw turned to the medicine cat, "he'll be fine out of the medicine cat den, right?"

Leafpool shook her head, "no, unfortunately. He has to recover from his wounds first."

The tabby nodded in understanding, "look after these two for me, will you, Leafpool?"

An amused purr escaped the medicine cat's throat, "so long as they both behave,"

He gave a curt chuckle in response, "see you later, Al. Get well soon." his younger brother meowed, exiting the medicine cat den.

Allen gave his own farewell, leaning back into his nest with a smile. With his brother here, he'd be happy to spend the rest of his days here in ThunderClan. Home is where the heart is, after all.


	10. 10 - Growing Pains (1 of 4)

Three days had passed since the arrival of Allen and Jordan to ThunderClan. The dark ginger tom had been confined to the medicine cat den, though his younger brother and his mate visited him several times a day. Lionkit, Hollykit, and Jaykit had been confined to the nursery as punishment for leaving camp without permission.

In the meantime, Jordan had been staying in the apprentice's den. Thankfully, all the apprentices seemed fine with him when the blue grey tom had been anxious they wouldn't like him, if he was going to stay here then he needed to actually be liked. Currently, he was sitting outside of the apprentices den, nibbling on a mouse.

Berrypaw approached him, carrying a mouse by its tail, "hey, loner."

"Ay, Berrypaw." he greeted.

The cream-coloured tom settled beside him, taking a bite out of it. "There's hardly any meat on this!" he grumbled.

"Mine's pretty stringy too," Jordan frowned. He knew that winter would have been a harder season for ThunderClan, but he didn't expect to see affects of the harsh season so soon. "Is it gonna be like this every time it's winter?" he inquired.

The apprentice looked at him strangely, "winter?" he repeated.

In turn, Jordan mimicked the expression, "uh, yeah?"

"You mean leaf-bare."

"No? I mean winter."

Berrypaw snorted, "loners are weird."

"You're the weirdo here," retorted Jordan, giving the tom a friendly nudge. "What kinda name is Berry?" he teased.

"What kind of name's Jordan?" the apprentice bit back.

"A normal one."

Berrypaw spangs to his paws, giving a playful hiss. "You want to fight about it?" He challenged.

The blue grey tom stood at his full height, smirking. He stood a full head taller than his friend, "a'ight shorty, lemme show you how we do it in NYC!" he exclaimed. Purposely, he put extra emphasis on his accent for comedic effect. While Berrypaw probably didn't get it, at least he found it funny himself.

The apprentice pounced on him, bowling him over. They wrestled on the ground, a writhing mass of fur moving in random directions. Laughing, Jordan batted at Berrypaw before shoving him off of him. The apprentice recovered, dropping low to the ground before he was tackled by the blue grey tom. Both of them unintentionally barrelled into Sorreltail, making her stumble.

"Watch what you're doing!" The tortoiseshell she-cat spat the two toms, her fur bristling.

Both of them looked up from their position on the ground. "Sorry, Sorreltail." responded Berrypaw.

"You're both acting like kits." she snorted, indignantly padding away with her tail high in the air.

Jordan frowned, "but we're both kits on the inside."

The cream-furred tom sniggered, "speak for yourself."

"Oh yeah, I forgot you're just a newborn on the inside." he crowed.

"Shut up!"

Both cats got back to their paws, padding back over to the apprentices den. They disposed of their leftovers, taking them out of camp and burying them near a tree. "How'd your assessment go yesterday?" the loner questioned.

"Pretty well, Brambleclaw said I'd be a warrior in no time if I kept it up." He replied coolly.

"Ay, nice."

"So when do you think Firestar will apprentice you?" Berrypaw inquired as they walked through the thorn tunnel back into the hollow.

Jordan answered, "he said he'd give me the ceremony after Al was back on his feet."

He grimaced, "I think you might be waiting a while then because he's got some nasty wounds."

The young cat frowned, "maybe I can convince Firestar to make me an apprentice now then," he had to agree with Berrypaw's assessment of the situation, the older tom would be stuck in the medicine den for a while yet, "I'm gonna go talk to him, 'kay?"

"Sure." meowed Berrypaw.

Jordan clambered up the rocks of the hollow, making his way to Firestar's den. He poked his head through the curtain of heathers and brambles, amber eyes searching for the ThunderClan leader. He found him grooming himself in his nest. He ceased his activity, looking to the loner with welcoming eyes.

"Come in, Jordan," he greeted, "what's the matter?"

The young tom entered the den, awkwardness tingling in his paws as he walked. Jordan was beginning to have second thoughts, was he being rude by doing this? But it was too late to back out of his decision now that he was in the den. "I was thinking, could you make me an apprentice soon? Allen's gonna need a while to heal," he mewed. A thought suddenly occurred to him, "oh, and the Clan's gonna get peeved if all I'm doing is sitting around all day." he added.

Firestar nodded thoughtfully, "yes, you're right about that. I was waiting until Allen recovered but perhaps we should make you an apprentice before all the controversy starts. "

Jordan's ears pricked up, "really? Thanks!"

"You're welcome, now follow me." ThunderClan's leader meowed, beckoning him with his tail. The two cats emerged from the shrubbery curtain covering Firestar's den, padding out on to Highledge. He bellowed out, "let all cats old enough to catch their own prey to gather here beneath the Highledge for a Clan meeting!"

At Firestar's call, cats began gathering underneath the Highledge one by one. At the edge of the crowd, Jordan could see Berrypaw muttering something to his sister, Hazelpaw. He could also see Sparkclaw, pressed against his mate as they looked up to the Highledge. Some of the gathered cats were speaking amongst one another, but it seemed that most of them knew what the Clan meeting was about. Jordan was unsure if he should soak up the attention, or shrink away from it. He had always been sociable, but like everyone else, he experienced stage fright.

Firestar began the meeting: "as you all know, two loners helped rescue Lionkit, Hollykit, and Jaykit from the fox cubs living on our territory; one of which is dead, and the other two are nowhere to be found."

The blue grey tom felt a pang of guilt and frowned. Had he killed the fox cub, or had it been one of the warriors on the patrol who found it? Either way, it should have been driven off ThunderClan territory instead. At least two of them were able to live.

A cat spoke up, a black tom with a brown underbelly, "but what does that have to do with the loners?"

The ThunderClan leader answered, "these loners should be rewarded for their bravery, which is why I will be making Jordan here a fully fledged member of ThunderClan."

The Clan murmured in surprise amongst themselves, the young cat felt relief course through him as nobody seemed to oppose the decision. However, he knew he'd have to prove himself to them all - especially since he'd be lounging around for the past three days doing nothing. He wouldn't be surprised if some of them thought that Firestar was giving him special treatment.

"Hey, what about Al?" Sparkclaw inquired.

"Don't worry, your brother will also be made a member of ThunderClan once he recovers." Firestar reassured.

Satisfied with the answer, the tom nodded in approval.

Allen probably wouldn't have nearly as hard a time of being accepted, and that was thanks to Sparkclaw being generally well received in ThunderClan. He would possibly have expectations surpass though, he had heard from the apprentices that the tabby warrior was a skilled fighter.

The Clan quietened down. Jordan could feel anticipation prickle at his paw pads, his stomach tying itself in knots. From the crowd, Berrypaw gave him a reassuring look. The ThunderClan leader conducted the ceremony; "Jordan, it is time for you to be apprenticed. From this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Brookpaw. Your mentor will be Squirrelflight. I hope Squirrelflight will pass down all she knows on to you."

"Brookpaw." the newly-named apprentice muttered softly. Unintentionally, Firestar had given him a name that reminded him of home. _All the more reason to feel pride in it_ , he thought with determination. He couldn't have picked a better name.

Brookpaw knew who Squirrelflight was, looking to the she-cat pressed against Sparkclaw. At the mention of her name, her eyes widened in surprise. They were soon flashing with pride as her mate gave her an affectionate nuzzle and congratulated her. He also knew that she was Firestar's daughter, so there was some high expectations he had to meet. Already Jordan could feel the pressure mounting.

Firestar turned to his daughter, "Squirrelflight, you are ready to take on an apprentice. You have received excellent training from Dustpelt, and you have shown yourself to be courageous and determined. You will be the mentor of Brookpaw, and I expect you to pass on all you know to Brookpaw."

The ThunderClan leader whispered in the apprentice's ear, "now, go down and touch noses with Squirrelflight."

He obeyed, clambering down the rocks to get to the ground. The crowd of cats dispersed, allowing for a path to be made to his new mentor. Anxiously, he approached Squirrelflight and she seemed to notice his mood. "It's alright, you're doing fine." she murmured once he was in front of her. They then touched noses.

He felt excitement rush through him as he heard the Clan chant his new name; "Brookpaw! Brookpaw! Brookpaw!"

The ceremony was over and Brookpaw bounded over to the other apprentices. "Hey guys!" he greeted.

"Congrats on becoming an apprentice!" Mousepaw grinned.

Hazelpaw purred, "you got a really nice name, I can't wait to see what your warrior name is."

"Yours isn't half bad, either." smiled Brookpaw.

Berrypaw meowed, "good job, and your mentor is pretty good, too. I've got Brambleclaw, so maybe I'll train with you sometime." he was trying to play it cool, but Brookpaw could see the warm glow in his eyes.

All three of them were delighted to have him train alongside them. That sentiment was echoed by the other apprentices, who showered him with congratulations. He grinned, sincerely thanking each and every one of them. Now, he had to impress his mentor. As if on que, Squirrelflight called to him.

It looks like it was already time to take his nose to the grindstone.


	11. 11 - Growing Pains (2 of 4)

Brookpaw padded steadily behind his mentor, curious as to what they would be doing next. She had just finished showing him around the territory and he found that it was quite expansive compared to what he had first thought. He had thought it would take only two hours to traverse through all of ThunderClan territory, not several hours. Then again, he covered much less ground now that he was a cat. Though he was thankful they had taken their time. Allen would have been dragging him by the tail by now.

Squirrelflight suddenly stopped dead, causing her apprentice to slow down wearily. "Um, is something wrong?" he asked.

The she-cat responded, "oh? No, everything's fine. We're just at one of the better hunting spots now," she meowed, "so, what can you scent?"

The blue grey cat scented the air, taking in the surrounding aromas. His mentor had been testing him on his tracking skills throughout the tour of the territory. All he could smell was the forest, mingling with other things. He picked something out amongst the collage of scents. "I think a mouse is nearby?" he offered.

His mentor scented the air too, nodding in confirmation. She spoke, her voice low, "alright, now, watch me." she dropped close to the ground, silently stalking towards a bush. She must have pinpointed where the mouse was. Squirrelflight pounced, emerging from the bush with the mouse in her maw. She then padded to a nearby tree, dropping the mouse and covering it with moss.

"Do we need to hide our prey? So other animals don't take it?" Brookpaw asked.

Squirrelflight nodded, "that's right, and you better remember where it is or I'm going to cuff you over the ears." she meowed, a mischievous glint dancing in her eyes.

"You can try." retorted Brookpaw.

The dark ginger she-cat flicked his nose with her tail, "we'll see just how good you are during battle training, fox-killer."

The pressure to do good as Squirrelflight's apprentice suddenly began to weigh him down. Warriors had told him that fighting off a fox had been both incredibly impressive and stupid at the same time, most cats had the common sense to avoid them. Since he had beaten one, without any form of training, it looked like some cats were expecting him to become a master of combat. Brookpaw frowned, genuine achievements were going to become something that was just expected of him.

Even when he wasn't being wrecked by his own powers, they still found a way to get back at him for using them. Squirrelflight added, "let's keep focused, I want you to try and hunt."

Brookpaw nodded, crouching low to the ground after scenting the air. There was a vole nearby, perhaps a few meters away. His mentor rested her tail on his flank, "your behind's sticking up like a bluebell, keep it low!" she murmured. His fur felt hot yet he did as instructed.

The tom stalked forward, slowly and carefully. _Okay, so I'm just gonna jump it and bite it in the neck, right? But what am I gonna do if it runs away?_ he thought to himself, frowning. He soon found the vole, nibbling of a seed it had found. Brookpaw remained tense, unable to take the opportunity. He could feel Squirrelflight's eyes boring a hole into his back. With pressure mounting, he forced himself to pounce.

His movements had been sloppy and he landed near the vole rather than on it, it began to flee as Brookpaw scrabbled to pin it under his paws. But it soon got away, "no!" he winced. Shyly, he turned to see his mentor's expression. He was expecting her to be disappointed or angry. He had let it get away, they needed all the prey they could get.

Squirrelflight was disappointed. But not in him - she was disappointed for him. She sighed, "it's alright, Brookpaw. You can't catch them every time." she reassured him.

"I guess, will I try again?" the apprentice mumbled. Briefly, he wondered if he could use his powers to help him hunt. Maybe he could improve his hearing and listen to the heartbeat and the scuttling of his pret. But he couldn't even actively use his powers when everything he touched set off an explosion of sound. He would just blow out his ear drums. It wasn't like he knew how to use his powers in any other way, either.

"If you can scent anything, then of course." responded Squirrelflight.

Brookpaw, once again, scented the air and found nothing. Walking a few steps forward, he tried again and was once again greeted by nothing. His tail drooped and his ears fell, "I can't find anything." he stated in defeat.

"How about we do some battle training instead?" his mentor offered.

"Sure." responded the apprentice. The she-cat beckoned him with her tail and he followed her to a sandy hollow. He had expected it be course and rough, but it instead felt soft. It was probably used to soften falls during training.

Squirrelflight stood a few meters away, facing him. "Ready?" she asked, "keep your claws sheathed, remember."

Brookpaw readied himself, nodding towards his mentor. He had a little experience with fighting now, though he was keenly aware that Squirrelflight was bound to have a different fighting style to Allen. Hopefully it would be a good thing, since Allen was extremely aggressive in his style. Plus, he was a full head and a half taller than her - she'd need a step ladder to get him.

"Attack me." his mentor commanded.

The tom obliged, charging towards her. Brookpaw predicted that she was going to sweep his legs when he got close enough, so he prepared himself. For a moment, he considered using his powers in destructive interference. Why shouldn't he? He had his powers under control and he could use them to make his life easier. But he decided against it, he didn't want to have to rely on them.

To his surprise, Squirrelflight moved to the side when he got close. She jumped onto his back, causing him to grunt at the sudden weight. The apprentice tried to shake her off, but his skinny frame couldn't handle it and he collapsed. She whispered in his ear, "just because you're big doesn't mean you can rush in willy nilly, fox-killer."

The dark ginger cat stepped off of him, letting Brookpaw stand up again. They moved back to their original spots. "Again." Squirrelflight meowed. He closed the distance between them, swiping low so that she couldn't dodge easy. Brookpaw landed a blow on her shoulder.

Squirrelflight gave out a small grunt in response, ducking under a second swipe and moving backwards as to distance herself from the apprentice. Brookpaw knew what she was doing, his spar with Allen running through his mind. "Not a chance!" he muttered under his breath, chasing after the she-cat and pouncing.

The warrior swiftly rolled onto her back. "What are you- oof!" wheezed Brookpaw, feeling all four of Squirrelflight's paws land on his stomach and chest. She used his momentum against him, launching him over her head. The apprentice landed on his back with a pained cry.

"I give up." He groaned, lazily waving his paw in the air in a sign of surrender.

Squirrelflight padded over to him, looking down at him. "That was better that time," she praised, "but you're always taking a big risk pouncing on an opponent who's focused on you, remember that."

Brookpaw replied, "has anyone ever told you that you're surprisingly strong?"

Humour danced in her green eyes, "this is coming from the great fox-killer? I'm flattered."

The apprentice got to his paws, "yeah, you're gonna get flattened, too." he smirked.

Squirrelflight flicked his nose with her tail, "don't count on it."

They both returned to their original positions. Brookpaw narrowed his eyes, what was he to do now? Though he didn't have time to formulate a strategy as, to his surprise, his mentor launched an assault. Taking advantage of this, she knocked one of his legs off balance. He wobbled, trying to put distance between the two of them. But she kept up the pressure, batting at him whenever she could. The tom swiped and Squirrelflight ducked underneath.

"Psyche!" cried Brookpaw in triumph, delivering a swift uppercut to the she-cat's chin. While it has made her yowl in surprise, she soon recovered and bowled him over, taking advantage of the fact that he only had three legs on the ground and was thus easily knocked over.

Squirrelflight kept him pinned, "you were saying?" she meowed, hardly keeping the smug tone out of her voice.

"Did I do good, though?" The tom inquired as his mentor got off him. He got up in to a laying position.

The she-cat sat on her hunches, her tail curling around her paws. "You're doing fine, that uppercut caught me off guard," she admitted, "you've got a long way to go, though. Also, don't yell out when you're attacking, you're not doing yourself any favours, alright?"

Brookpaw frowned, "sorry." it was all he could say. Maybe he wasn't taking this as seriously as he should, but at the same time he didn't want to be stone-faced all the time. Though Squirrelflight was correct, he wasn't doing himself any favours by crying out before attacking. Brookpaw could adapt, he knew he could. "Um, can we try again?" he inquired.

Squirrelflight answered, smiling, "sure thing, fox-killer."


	12. 12 - Growing Pains (3 of 4)

Brookpaw lay in his nest, curled up in a ball. It had been a few days since he had been apprenticed to Squirrelflight, today she was allowing him to catch a break. Not even ten minutes ago, he had sleepily padded out of the apprentices den when saw his mentor. The she-cat had said they wouldn't be training today.

The blue grey cat didn't know exactly why, but he wasn't about to argue with Squirrelflight: he could feel his comfy nest beckoning him. Brookpaw has turned around and went back in. A content smile spread across Brookpaw's face, he wasn't getting up until noon. His sides began slowly rising and falling. A night terror had struck him again last night and he hadn't been able to sleep since.

Just as he was about to fall asleep, there was a sudden yowling from outside. Berrypaw, laying in the nest beside Brookpaw, was roused from his slumber. The cream-coloured tom nudged at his friend's form. "C'mon, that's Firestar calling for a Clan meeting." he murmured.

The tom groaned in protest, curling up in a tighter ball. "So? Just tell me what he said when you get back. It's too early." he grumbled.

"You're going to get in trouble if you don't come!" warned Berrypaw, "plus, do you want the Clan to think you're a good-for-nothing loner?"

Brookpaw sighed, admitting defeat. He got out of his nest and followed after his friend out in to the clearing, most of the Clan was present. Leering, the tom looked towards the sun to see if he could tell what time of day it was. It looked to be around ten o'clock or so. _Oh, I guess it's not early then._ he thought to himself. Mumbling, Brookpaw asked, "what do you think this is about, Berrypaw?"

Berrypaw responded, "it's for apprentice ceremonies. Since Lionkit, Hollykit, and Jaykit are six moons old now. Oh, that loner's recovered, too."

"What, Allen?"

"Yeah, that guy."

Brookpaw looked towards the base of the Highledge, finding that the three kits and their uncle was sitting there. The three kittens seemed excited, though there seemed to be some worry in Jaykit's sightless eyes, but Allen stood rigid and stoic. Maybe he didn't see this ceremony the same way his two nephews and niece did. Yet, there was a flash of pride in his eyes as he looked towards the three kits. They were going to get a lot closer over the next few moons.

The apprentice then turned to see the reaction of Sparkclaw and his mentor, Squirrelflight. Both parents were glowing with pride, especially the brown tabby. Pressed against one another, the watched intently as the ceremony was about to begin.

Firestar called from the Highledge: "I gather you all for one of my favourite duties," he started, "Hollykit, Lionkit, and Jaykit have reached their sixth moon, and Allen has fully recovered from his injuries."

Brookpaw leaned towards Berrypaw, "who'd you think's gonna be their mentors?"

"Jaykit's _definitely_ going to be Leafpool's apprentice." the cream-furred cat responded.

He nodded his head in agreement. The grey kitten would have an extremely difficult time was a warrior should he go down that route. His blindness would hinder him in a fight, he couldn't dodge what he couldn't see. "What about Hollykit?" Brookpaw prompted.

"Thornclaw?" Berrypaw offered.

Brookpaw wanted to give his own thoughts, but in truth he didn't know too much about these kits. He only knew them as the terrified kits who luckily bumped into him and Allen. Berrypaw knew more about them than he did, so he took his guess as one that would make sense. "I think Lionkit will get Brambleclaw." the apprentice mewed, his eyes holding a glint of mischief.

Berrypaw glared, "what are you trying to say? That's my mentor!"

"I dunno, what _am_ I trying to say?"

"At least my mentor doesn't keep battering me!"

"Shut up, the pair of you!" an elder behind them, Mousefur, hissed.

"Alright, keep your fur on." grumbled the cream-coloured tom.

"They've had an adventurous kithood," the ThunderClan leader meowed, a hint of humour in his eyes. A few cats chuckled quietly from the crowd, Sparkclaw being one of them.

 _I'll say!_ Brookpaw smirked.

"But I hope that they've learned some valuable lessons, and I believe they are ready to become apprentices." Firestar finished.

There was a ripple of agreement throughout the clowder. Brookpaw had noticed that Allen had yet to be mentioned, was there some reason behind that? Maybe Firestar was going to announce that Allen would be his apprentice, though that didn't seem likely to him.

The ginger cat waited patiently for the noise to die out. "Lionkit!" he called out. The golden tabby bounced forward, his fur bristling with excitement. "From this day forward, you will be known as Lionpaw," he looked towards the sky, "I ask StarClan to watch over you and guide you until you find in your paws the strength and courage of a warrior."

Firestar then looked towards the crowd, "Ashfur. You mentored Birchfall, a credit to his Clan. Now I ask you to prove yourself again as a mentor. I trust you to pass on all you have learned to Lionpaw and help him become a warrior the Clan can be proud of."

The speckled tom lifted his chin in pride, "I won't let ThunderClan down." the mentor and apprentice touched noses. The Clan began chanting, and above the caterwauling Brookpaw could clearly make out Sparkclaw. _He must be so proud of them,_ he mused.

Hollykit was next, being called forth by Firestar. She raced forward, skidding to a halt at the centre of the clearing. "From this day until you receive your warrior name, you will be Hollypaw." meowed the ThunderClan leader.

The Clan chanted her name.

"Leafpool," called Firestar. The she-cat walked forward. "I know that I am putting Hollypaw in safe paws," Firestar meowed. "I pray that StarClan gives your apprentice all the strength and wisdom she will need."

"I will teach her everything I know," Leafpool promised. She touched Hollypaw's muzzle with hers, but she didn't seem to meet Hollypaw's eyes.

Both Brookpaw and Berrypaw shared a surprised glance at one another. Jaykit was going to be a warrior then? But who would train him? There wasn't any other blind warriors, was there? The blue grey tom struggled to wrap his head around the notion.

Suddenly, Jaykit marched forwards to the centre of the clearing. "What about me? I want to be a warrior, too." the young tom spat definitely. Brookpaw looked to see the reactions of the parents and his uncle. Both toms seemed to glare towards Jaykit, bewildered at the gall of him. Squirrelflight, her ears flat against her head, looked away in embarrassment.

"Well, he _is_ Sparkclaw's son." meowed Berrypaw.

"Of course you do, and your mentor will be Brightheart." replied Firestar.

Jaykit didn't like that all. His fur was bristling and his claws sank into the earth. Brookpaw could almost feel the seething anger from the kit as he and the other apprentices began to chant before Spiderleg hushed them. The tom was firmly nudged forward by his father, who had moved closer to his son through the crowd. Jaykit stomped forward. After some angered exchanges, Jaykit was finally apprenticed.

Allen stepped forward, moving towards the centre of the clearing. His head was held high, as if he was trying to make up for the embarrassment his family just endured. He was going to have words with his nephew when he got the chance. The tom's face was hot with anger and embarrassment. Firestar, now on the ground after Jaypaw's ceremony, met him halfway.

"Allen," the ginger tom started, "you have proven yourself capable of becoming a warrior, and now that you've recovered, it's time you became a full-fledged member of this Clan."

The crowd muttered in agreement.

"Until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Rowanpaw. I hope that StarClan will guide you until you find the strength and courage in your paws of a warrior." Firestar meowed. The Clan chanted his name, and he could clearly make out his brother and Brookpaw. He could only smile.

The leader turned towards the crowd, "Sparkclaw."

The newly-made apprentice's eyes went wide. His own brother was going to be his mentor? He suddenly felt weightless, his heart pounding in his chest. With pride, he turned to face his younger brother as he approached him.

"You are a skilled warrior, trained by Blackstar during your time in ShadowClan. You've been a part of ThunderClan for seasons now, and I think you're ready to take on an apprentice. It was only fitting that it would be your kin, I hope you pass on everything you know to him."

 _Blackstar? No wonder he was so pissed off_ Rowanpaw thought to himself, the ShadowClan must have felt betrayed when he joined ThunderClan. The brothers touched noses and Allen felt a strange, tingling sensation in his nose . "I hope you're ready for hell, Al." Sparkclaw smirked.

"I'm ready to make you eat dust, D." Rowanpaw retorted.

After the new apprentices had been congratulated, Sparkclaw and Rowanpaw left camp to train. The brown tabby had taken him to a sandy hollow, the apprentice knew what they were going to do. "Sparring? How'd I know it'd be sparring." he smirked.

"You know me too well. Remember an' keep your claws sheathed, Al." responded the warrior.

Rowanpaw stretched, "I hope you know I'm not rusty." he grunted.

"Prove it," Sparkclaw challenged, "the first one to pin the other wins."

With a determined growl, the apprentice leaped for his brother. He couldn't underestimate him now, not after what Firestar had said. Back in Detroit, he wouldn't have been worried because he knew exactly how his brother fought. He had been a brawler; but things were different now.

Sparkclaw met him head on, using his superior strength to overpower and throw his brother to the sandy ground. The tom cried out in surprise. The brown tabby went to pin him, but was met with a swift kick to the jaw. Stumbling back, he grunted.

Rowanpaw scrambled to his paws, shaken. Growing up, both of them had always been fit and lean - especially Sparkclaw. But never had he ever been so easily overpowered by his younger brother. _He's stronger, but I'm quicker_ he reminded himself. At least that was an advantage. Again, the warrior rushed forward but the dark ginger cat stepped aside and landed a swift blow to the back of his head.

But that alone wouldn't be enough to win, Rowanpaw's competitive side kicked in and, with all his strength, he barrelled into his brother's side. Sparkclaw cried out in pain as they tumbled, using his hind legs to launch his brother off of him. "Watch it, Al!" he hissed.

"Sorry," Rowanpaw apologised, "I guess I was being too rough there, D."

His brother responded, "fuckin' yeah you were. This is a sparring match, not a death match." he snorted as he approached.

"Yeah, sorry. I didn't mean it." the apprentice repeated. He stumbled as his brother suddenly landed a blow on the side of his head. "Hey, what the fuck!?" he spat. Sparkclaw blowed him over.

"We're not done yet!" the warrior sneered, becoming just as competitive as his brother was mere moments ago.

"You sneaky little..." Rowanpaw growled, wresting with his brother. They were a writhing mass of sand-covered fur, shoving one another off before pouncing on one another to repeat the process. The apprentice had just thrown his brother off, moving to pin him.

The warrior placed his paws on both of his older brother's shoulders, Rowanpaw suddenly jumped back with wide eyes. He just felt an electric shock as his paws made contact with his fur. "David?" he meowed.

Sparkclaw got to his paws, shaking the sand off of him. "What's the matter?" he asked.

"You just gave me an electric shock."

Something flashed in the warrior's blue eyes, "we're rolling in sand, Al. It happens-"

"-Do you think I'm fucking stupid?" Rowanpaw interrupted. With a quick lash of his tail, he added, "rolling doesn't give you shocks and touching noses doesn't, either! You're a meta, David. Don't lie to me!"

Sparkclaw's eyes widened then narrowed, "yeah, what about it? There's no AMRA here to snitch to." he snarled.

The dark ginger tabby laughed in bewilderment, "snitch? You think I'd turn in one of my own - let alone my brother?" he scoffed. One of his forelegs was suddenly enveloped in neon.

The tabby warrior stared in awe, "Allen..."

"What? You didn't think that you'd be the only Falkirk that's a meta, did you?" Rowanpaw asked, humor dancing in his eyes. The neon suddenly evaporated as he approached the bewildered Sparkclaw.

"I think it's time we had a talk, brother."


	13. 13 - Growing Pains (4 of 4)

Rowanpaw and Sparkclaw found a secluded spot in ThunderClan territory, the perfect place for them to talk. It was underneath a low hanging tree, keeping them hidden from the preying eyes of a potential passerby thanks to the drooping branches. Even without the leaves, they were difficult to make out.

The two brothers had walked in silence, processing the information they just revealed to one another. While the elder brother has made a comment about his sibling earlier, he hadn't given much thought to notion that his brother could be a metahuman too. He thought that Sparkclaw would have used his power in fights, maybe even made himself the top dog in Detroit. He was thankful to be wrong about that.

"How long have you had your powers for, D?" Rowanpaw suddenly asked. It was common knowledge that the powers of a metahuman manifested during puberty, usually at the ages of thirteen and sixteen, as if puberty wasn't scary enough for kids.

Sparkclaw responded, "since I was. . .thirteen? Yeah, thirteen. I was in a fight, I just punched the guy, and then he was going crazy on the ground. Nobody saw me though, it was in an empty parking lot. I'm lucky too, because my hand was covered in electricity."

The dark ginger tabby rolled his eyes, "why am I not surprised you were in a fight?"

He shrugged in response, "I was a little shit, what'd you expect?"

Rowanpaw gave a curt laugh, "yeah you were. You're a lot different from how I remember you, actually." he smiled.

The tabby warrior's ears pricked up, "I am?"

His brother nodded, "definitely. You're a lot more mellow now and nobody actually hates you here - who knew you just needed to get laid." he crowed.

Sparkclaw laughed, "oh, fuck you," he playfully nudged his older brother. "You're an asshole, you know that?" he retorted.

"Seriously though, you've changed for the better." the apprentice reassured.

"Thanks," smiled Sparkclaw, "how'd you get your powers? What even is it, anyways?"

"Mine? It's neon," Rowanpaw answered, again allowing on of his forelegs to be enveloped in the element. "I was walking by the store, you know the one with the 'open' sign at the front?"

"Yeah."

"I was passing by that one, then the neon from the sign just came out of it and into me," he meowed, "after that, my powers went crazy for a few minutes but I was scared shitless. I was just zipping everywhere!" he would never forget that moment for as long he lived; the fear in his heart, the adrenaline in his veins, the neon in the air. Nothing could compare to it.

But they were no longer terrifying to him, and he has someone important to him to thank for that. Though, Rowanpaw thinks his powers may work a little differently if he was to believe what that significant person told him.

Sparkclaw replied, "you have super speed or something?"

"Kinda," responded Rowanpaw, "so what about you?"

The younger brother gave an awkward cough, causing his apprentice to frown. Was he unable to control them and was embarrassed about it? "I can't do anything with them; not since..." he drifted off, his eyes glazed off and his expression dark.

"David?" Rowanpaw meowed, looking at the tabby warrior intently. He didn't responded, "hey, are you okay?" he inquired, concern dripping off every word. What had gotten into his brother? Again, he didn't respond. "David!"

Sparkclaw suddenly snapped back to reality, "what? Oh y-yeah, I used them too much," he stammered, "I just. . .used them too much." he repeated.

Rowanpaw frowned, looking worriedly at his baby brother. He wanted to reach out to him, ask him what was wrong. But unfortunately, he didn't feel like pressing the issue was a good idea. "Maybe you're like me and you need to drain your power from a source." he offered.

"A-a source?" he repeated.

"Yeah, you just gotta learn how to do it. It's a shame it wasn't the first thing that happened when your powers started up." the elder brother meowed. _What's he stuttering for?_ Rowanpaw asked himself.

"M-maybe." he responded.

The dark ginger tabby asked a question, "do you think that the kids are metas, too?"

Sparkclaw frowned, "I don't know, they might n-not be but I think Jaypaw is. Even though he's b-blind, he walks around just fine," he meowed, "what's it that bats use to get around? Cause I think he has that."

"Echolocation?"

"Yeah, echolocation," the tabby cat responded, "Lionpaw and Hollypaw seem fine, though."

"Maybe their powers haven't started up yet," mewed Rowanpaw, "it might be a while yet."

"I don't _want_ them to be like me," pointed out Sparkclaw, "Jaypaw's lucky his power isn't flashy like ours. But what about those two? I've had nightmares about those three getting their powers n' getting kicked outta our home!" he confessed, "ThunderClan doesn't even know what _cars_ are, how are they gonna take a bunch of super-powered kittens?"

The dark ginger cat was suddenly struck by a very real fear. Should his nephews and niece be metas then they'd be driven out or treated as some sort of trump card for ThunderClan to use against the other three Clans. He could only shiver, "I'm worried, too, but if it ever came to that, David, I've got your backs. Jaypaw might not have powers though, he just used to being in camp and knowing where everything is, that's all," Rowanpaw reassured, "plus, being meta is pretty damn rare."

Sparkclaw sighed, nodding in agreement "Yeah, you're right, thanks. I just don't wanna lose everything. My family means everything to me,". Turning to his older, he inquired, "what about that Brookpaw kid? Is he meta, too?"

"His power's sound." Rowanpaw stated simply. He party wanted to ask his younger brother if he ended up here the same way he, himself, did but decided to put it off. Something was clearly bothering his baby brother, something he wasn't telling him. On top of the fears he just admitted to having, he didn't need anything else weighing on his mind. Besides, the four who sent him and Brookpaw here were gone now. They wouldn't be bothering them any more.

"Squirrelflight says he loves the sound of his own voice." Sparkclaw commented.

The apprentice snorted in reply, "she's damn right he does. I swear, sometimes I could barely hear myself think!" he fumed, "but, how's he getting on?"

The warrior answered, "she says he's getting there, plus he's getting on really well with Berrypaw."

"Ah Christ, _two_ frat boys?" Rowanpaw groaned.

Sparkclaw chuckled, "alright, you old geezer, ready to get back to training?"

His older brother nodded, "sure." the two toms then pushed out from the branches, heading back for the sandy hollow. Sparkclaw stopped periodically to show him the best hunting spots on the territory, giving his brother time to practice his hunting skills and technique. By the time they reached the sandy hollow the sun had began to set, so they began to head back for camp.

Rowanpaw felt that much closer to Sparkclaw after their talk, rarely had they ever talked like that before. He couldn't ignore the swelling of happiness in his heart as they walked. Everything just seemed that much better now. As brothers, they now had a more deeper understanding of one another.

Rowanpaw couldn't ask for a better baby brother.

 **...**

The cottage had been quiet for some time now, ever since those Clan cats ganged up on them. Now the feral kept away from the cottage, which was a shame; it was some good entertainment when that little Clan cat wandered near the cottage. Jacques and herself had been thrilled, maybe the time spent with their housefolk at their cottage would finally be fun.

But now it was back to being uneventful and mind-numbing, unexciting and dull. Susan, with a bored expression, looked out into the forest through the window. Her tail swished behind her lazily, her light brown tabby fur looked pale in the moonlight. The she-cat just wished one of those dumb Clan cats would come wandering over again, so she could have a little fun.

Something caught her eye, moving near the edge of the tree line. Leering, she looked closely and watched. The figure remained still, as if it was watching her. They stepped out into the pale moonlight. It was a cat.

The cat was skinny and lean, his body covered in short, dark grey fur. It looked like there was patches of fur missing from his forelegs, shoulders, and neck. It must be some loner or a Clan cat.

Susan sprang to her paws. Finally, they got to have some fun! She raced over to Jacques' bed, shaking him. "Jacques! Get up!" she trilled, a malicious glint in her eyes.

The black-and-white tom stirred awake, giving the she-cat a sour look. "What is it? I'm trying to sleep." he grumbled.

The tabby cat responded, "there's a cat out there all alone, why don't we give him some company?"

Jacques' amber eyes suddenly held the same malicious glint as her own. "Sure, why don't we?"

The two kittypets slinked out of the cat flap in the front door, approaching the dark grey cat. As they got closer, Susan could see that his fur was unkempt, like he had been dragged through a bush backwards. Those missing patches of fur were actually scars, she wondered how he got them. But she didn't care much, really. She could tell from his scent he was the same of Clan as that dumb one who showed up months ago.

The Clan cats may have said they'd be sorry if they hurt another cat, but it was his fault for getting close. "What's the matter, kitty? Are you lost?" she sneered, her claws were aching to rake his messy pelt.

Jacques crowed, "we're going to make an example of you, patchy."

Susan felt confident. Both Jacques and herself were fit and lean, and the tom was huge. This Clan cat was skinny, practically a scrap of patchy fur. The cat leered at them, his orange eyes blazing with contempt.

The she-cat join in, "what's wrong, patchy? Can't speak?"

The cat stared at them.

"I think he's defective, even for a Clan cat." the tom jeered.

The dark grey tom then spoke, and it sent shivers down Susan's spine. Never had she thought one word could carry so much malice and contempt, so much callousness. "Burn." said the Clan cat.

Suddenly, dark plumes of ash and embers erupted from behind him. The two kittypets tried to yowl out in terror, but a wave of hot, sticky ask hit them. Susan tumbled back, her body lit up with white roaring pain. She landed on her side, coughing and sputtering. She could feel the right side of her face burning in agony from the ash sticking to it.

"Jacques!" she screeched, petrified.

But her cries were met with silence. Whimpering, she frantically searched for the cat- no, the monster that done this to them. Susan found him, staring up at the window of the cottage. His paw was alight, covered in blazing ashes, as another wave of cinders shot from his paw and through the window.

Her housefolk would burn alive!

The tom seemed content, turning to her with a cold fury in his gaze. The she-cat could only whimper submissively and in agony from her scarred lungs and burning wounds. "I-I'm sorry! J-just don't hurt me, I-I promise I'll leave your Clan alone!" Susan begged, fearing for her life.

The cat loomed over her. With distain, he responded, "you're only sorry because you're afraid. I lived in a village full of people like you; cruel until you have to deal with the consequences." he spat.

Susan tried to cry out as he pounced on her, pinning her to the ground. There was a sudden and brilliant pain in her shoulder as the tom pressed his paw there. She opened her mouth to scream, but the dark grey cat shoved his ashen paw in her mouth.

"Send Talonpaw my regards."

She didn't have time to struggle or scream as ash fulled her respiratory system, cinders burning her from the inside out. Sootpaw removed his paw from the deceased kittypet's maw, now brimming with hot ash. Her terrified gaze was towards the moon. He sighed in relief, his moment of cold anger had passed.

Now all that was left was several charred corpses, a stuffed one, and a smouldering house. Returning to a state of indifference, we watched as smoke from the cottage climbed higher and higher to the sky.

Silently, Sootpaw stalked back into the tree line.


	14. 14 - Burn (1 of 3)

Lionpaw sat in the clearing, his paws shuffling anxiously in the hollow. He looked skywards, the pale silver moon reflecting in his amber eyes. _Clouds won't stop this Gathering_ he thought to himself.

He looked towards the thorn tunnel, where all of the warriors attending the Gathering were situated; Dustpelt, Spiderleg, and Ashfur. The apprentice then turn to the base of the Highledge where Firestar was quietly chatting with Sandstorm and Brambleclaw.

Hollypaw, who was sitting besides him, raked the ground with her sharp claws. "Why are we hanging about?" she demanded, her black pelt ruffled by impatience.

Lionpw shared his sister's feelings, he wanted to get going. He wanted to meet the apprentices from rival Clans, to exchange stories, and to compare training. He was a little disappointed that Jaypaw and Brookpaw wouldn't be attending. Jaypaw had been confined to camp as punishment for running off and almost drowning in WindClan territory, while Brookpaw simply hadn't be picked to attend the Gathering.

It was a shame too, since the blue grey tom was so cool. He was full of confidence, walking with a swagger that couldn't be matched. Plus, he was funny and had the markings of a great warrior in him. Lionpaw would never forget how Brookpaw had defeated that fox in one blow, taunting it all the while. He had told him his secret, too. Lionpaw didn't know what 'leg day' was, but he sure wasn't going to skip it.

"It can't be much longer." The tom reassured.

Hazelpaw chimed in, "I think Firestar's just waiting for Leafpool."

"She's taking ages though!" complained Hollypaw, "she's only sorting through the herbs we gathered before sunhigh."

"Maybe she'd be done quicker if her apprentice was helping her." Berrypaw pointed out.

"I tried!" the black she-she protested, "but she said she'd be done quicker if she did it herself."

Mousepaw chimed in, his whiskers twitching in amusement, "you're sure you're cut out to be a medicine cat?"

Berrypaw sniggered while Hollypaw's fur bristled in outrage. She snapped, "of course I am! One day you'll be waiting on _me_ coming out of the medicine den!"

"They're only teasing, Hollypaw." Lionpaw reminded her. He turned to see his brother, sitting gloomily at the mouth of the apprentice den. What was he so angry for? It was his own fault, as both Sparkclaw and Squirrelflight had been quick to remind him. If that WindClan patrol hadn't found him, he'd be at the bottom of the lake. He scented the air, finding that the scent of Smokefoot was stale in the air. The one-eyed warrior was their father's friend as well as Leafpool's. Lionpaw wondered if he would be attending the Gathering.

He approached Jaypaw, giving him a lick between his ears. "I wish you were coming." he meowed.

"You're the only one who does." he glowered.

"You're lying," Lionpaw retorted, "it's your own fault you're stuck in camp."

"Maybe Firestar doesn't want a blind cat at the Gathering."

"What are you trying to say?"

"I mean, does it look good to have a blind apprentice in your Clan?"

Before he could respond, Firestar called him over. _StarClan, he's so much like dad!_ he thought with exasperation. He bounded over to where the other apprentices who were racing towards the entrance of camp. Firestar, with a curt nod, led them out of the thorn tunnel.

As they raced by the Sky Oak and towards the lake, Lionpaw could feel his heart soaring as his paws drummed against the grass. Hollypaw's pelt was right against his own, rippling with the excitement they both shared. Soon enough, the patrol found itself approaching the island.

"Are you going to mention the border markers?" Brambleclaw asked Firestar.

"Do you mean how WindClan and ShadowClan have been marking every little thing on our borders?"

"Yes."

"Not yet," the ThunderClan leader responded, "what those two do on their territory is their own business."

"But it's an open show of hostility!" the deputy protested.

"We won't react just yet." Firestar repeated.

Lionpaw's mentor, Ashfur, chimed in. "He's right. We're better sending out more patrols and meeting them marker for marker. If we confronted them then we'd be giving them the reaction they're looking for."

"It'll take a lot more than markers to intimidate ThunderClan!" Firestar declared. With that, the patrol made its way over the fallen tree (which Lionpaw almost slipped off) and on to the island. All the ThunderClan cats were on the beach now. They all began padding through the trees to reach the clearing, or in Lionpaw's case, bolted.

Once on the other side, he was amazed at the sheer number of cats surrounding him. "Is it what you expected?" Hollypaw asked him.

He replied, "I didn't there would be so many cats here." his gaze swept through the clearing. The apprentice's eyes fell on a ShadowClan cat, his forelegs and neck covered in burn scars. He shivered, "imagine meeting him in battle! I'm going to train twice as hard from now on."

"How can you think about fighting when it's a truce?" his sister scolded.

"Why don't you go up and talk to him?" Mousepaw goaded.

Hollypaw gasped, "can we just go up and talk to anyone?"

"Well, you better be careful what you tell them because warriors aren't usually pleased when apprentices pester them. You're better off talking to apprentices." cautioned the tom.

"What if they talk to us, though?" Lionpaw asked.

Mousepaw responded, "just be polite and don't give too much away, some warriors might try and take advantage of you being just made apprentices to find out about ThunderClan. But it's not like they can read your mind or anything, so you'll be fine."

"Like how you almost told Russetfur about Firestar giving up the land to ShadowClan before he could say himself?" Berrypaw crowed.

"Hey!"

The two brothers began arguing.

Hollypaw turned to Lionpaw, "I'm going to see what everyone's taking about." she went to join a group of RiverClan apprentices.

He went to follow, but then someone put their tail tip on his shoulder. "Hey, you're a new ThunderClan apprentice, aren't you?" the cat asked.

Lionpaw froze for a second, not expecting the sudden contact. The cats voice was strange, it sounded like Sparkclaw's, Rowanpaw's, and Brookpaw's yet it was different. He turned around to find a light brown tabby tom with green eyes. His eyes were strange, one of his pupils was bigger than the other. He was from ShadowClan, he could tell by his scent.

"Y-yes." the apprentice stammered. There was something strange about this cat, something terrible. He could see in his eyes, the bitter coldness they held. _I just need to remember what Mousepaw said and I'll be fine,_ he thought to himself. Lionpaw felt as if his head was swimming for some reason.

The tom drew his tail back, "you've just became an apprentice not to long ago, am I right?"

Lionpaw nodded, "how'd you know?"

"You're still fluffy like a kit," the tom responded, "I'm Thornpaw. So how has ThunderClan been keeping? Has the prey been running well?"

The apprentice could feel the fur on his neck begging to stand on end. This ShadowClan cat wasn't being genuine in his questions, he wasn't even trying to feign interest or curiosity. It was obvious to Lionpaw what he was trying to do, good thing Mousepaw warned him. He replied coolly, "we're good."

Thornpaw slowly nodded his head. Lionpaw's mind felt murky, maybe he should talk to Hollypaw about it later. An unrecognisable emotion suddenly flashed over the tom's eyes. "It was nice meeting you, Lionpaw. Tell Rowanpaw and Brookpaw that I said Lansing and New York."

"O-okay." he responded, staring at the tom as he left. What a menacing aura! The apprentice couldn't stop shaking, realising that Thornpaw knew his name despite the fact that Lionpaw had never told him. That ShadowClan cat was bad news, he could feel it. What did Lansing and New York even mean? How did he know Rowanpaw and Brookpaw?

A sudden, soft voice fell on his ears. "Aren't you Jaypaw's brother?"

Lionpaw whirled around, finding a light brown tabby she-cat gazing at him with heather-coloured eyes. "Uh. . .yeah, I am." he responded, "how'd you know?" he couldn't stop the edge of suspicion in his voice. What's with all the cats with that pelt knowing him?

"Berrypaw told me," she replied innocently, "my name's Heatherpaw, by the way. Jaypaw might have mentioned me? I'm Smokefoot's apprentice, he brought him back to your camp. Has he recovered?"

 _Oh, because your eyes are like heathers_ he thought to himself. "Oh, Jaypaw's fine. But he's not here as punishment." he responded. Lionpaw found it embarrassing that he actually had to remember where any of his siblings were at the moment. His mind wasn't buzzing anymore either he noticed.

Heatherpaw frowned, "aw, I'd be miserable if I was stuck in camp. But I still can't believe he was out himself even though he's blind. He's so brave!"

The golden tabby responded quickly, "well, he's grumpy most of the time." he felt pangs of envy.

Suddenly, a smokey grey tom padded over to Heatherpaw. "We best be joining our Clan now," he spoke. Like almost every cat recently, he had a funny-sounding voice though his sounded more like a Clan cat's. "The Gathering will begin soon." he urged.

The she-cat introduced him, "this is Crowpaw, he's the newest apprentice," she meowed. Crowpaw gave an uninterested flick of his tail towards Lionpaw. "You wouldn't think so, though. He's been acting like a warrior since he went from 'kit' to 'paw.'"

The apprentice gave an indignant snort, "someone has to remind you Rosbifs how to act."

"Rosbifs?" Lionpaw echoed. What in Silverpelt did that mean?

Heatherpaw gave a playful roll of her eyes. "He likes to say that because Smokefoot, his dad, calls WindClan that sometimes. He thinks he can boss me around because his dad's my mentor, too."

Crowpaw's fur fluffed up, "No I don't!" he protested.

The she-cat nudged him, "I was only joking, don't get your tail in a twist," she then turned to Lionpaw, "I know it doesn't seem like it, but Crowpaw can be lots of fun sometimes." she reassured.

Neither of the two toms could respond, Onestar was calling for the Gathering to begin. Lionpaw left to go join ThunderClan, looking over his shoulder he could see Crowpaw flashing Heatherpaw a look that said _I told you so_. The four Clan leaders were perched in a tree like owls.

"WindClan has two new apprentices this moon," Onestar reported, "Crowpaw, and Mintpaw."

The ThunderClan apprentice could see Crowpaw, lifting his chin proudly at the mention of his name. Smokefoot also glowed with pride at the mention of his son's name. At his side was a pale grey tom, absent-mindedly looking around the clearing. Either he wasn't aware that he had gazes of four Clans on him, or he didn't care. That must be Mintpaw, Lionpaw observed.

A RiverClan cat spoke up, "you never mentioned a Mintkit being born!" she called.

The WindClan leader stared her down, "that's because Mintpaw was a loner. Before anyone says anything, keep in mind _all_ of your Clans took in outsiders moons ago, and that the deputy of ShadowClan was once a loner herself."

Lionpaw stared in awe, he had expected the clearing to erupt in protest having just heard that WindClan had accepted a loner into their ranks. But it was deathly silent. Onestar sure knew how to kill a crowd.

Blackstar, the leader of ShadowClan, retorted, "ShadowClan only takes in those who show themselves to have the potential of great warriors."

"As does WindClan." Onestar replied simply. He continued his report, "Leaf-bare has been kind to us. The rabbits are running, but not too fast to catch, and the wind has made it hard for buzzards and hawks to take our prey. Otherwise, we have nothing to report."

The ThunderClan apprentice briefly wondered if Onestar would mention Jaypaw's blunder on WindClan territory, but was relieved that he never mentioned it. It would have been embarrassing if he had.

It was ShadowClan's turn now. "ShadowClan has three new apprentices," Blackstar began, "Ivypaw, Thornpaw, and Sootpaw."

Lionpaw felt a shiver run down his spine looking at both Thornpaw and Sootpaw. Both of them looked dangerous, especially Sootpaw with his numerous scars. Ivypaw, despite her leering, looked like a friendly kit beside those two. Together, Thornpaw and Sootpaw exerted a crushing presence. It was a wonder as to how the little tortoiseshell beside them wasn't quivering.

Blackstar continued, "the land ThunderClan has offered us has been an excellent source of prey, and ShadowClan thanks them for their generosity." he meowed, smugness dripping from every word.

Firestar responded, "that's good to hear, even though it was poor by ThunderClan standards." he meowed, he went to report on ThunderClan until the ShadowClan leader cut him off.

"I'm not finished yet," he meowed sharply. Blackstar, if it was even possible, looked more serious than ever. "yesterday, a patrol found the twoleg nest on our territory had been burned down,"

A WindClan cat chimed in, "so? Twolegs are madder than a New-leaf hare, they probably just moved away!"

Cats from ThunderClan, WindClan and RiverClan murmured amongst themselves.

"Good riddance."

"What does Blackstar look so grim for? That's a good thing."

"They better not settle on our territory."

"Silence!" Blackstar roared, "the twolegs hadn't move to a different nest - we found their bodies _in_ the nest. They had been burned to death, even their kits, along with one of the kittypets."

There was shocked gasps from the other three Clans. Lionpaw could only stare, wide-eyed. The twolegs had been burned alive? He had heard stories of how twolegs has destroyed the old home of the Clans, and he had thought of them as unwavering forces of destruction, but it seemed that they were just as mortal as they were. He felt sick, imagining that those had been Clanborn kits. Every cat seemed as shocked as he was.

Except Thornpaw and Sootpaw.

The light brown tabby seemed apathetic, but there was a glint dark tom's orange eyes. He probably hated twolegs, perhaps all those burn scars on him were from twolegs. Spiderleg called out, "what about the other kittypet? Wasn't there two on your territory?"

Grimly, Blackstar responded; "we found her not far from the twoleg nest, half of her face was burned and she seemed to have choked to death on ash. Littlecloud told us that ash completely filled her body - it was practically falling out her mouth. We buried the two kittypets near the twoleg nest, we were unable to do anything about the twolegs. We can only hope that their deaths don't bring more twolegs about."

"Dear StarClan." Lionpaw shuddered as the four Clans murmured in both despair and fear amongst one another. Like other cats, he was concerned about more twolegs showing up. The older warriors, the ones who made the journey, looked the most afraid. They couldn't bare to be driven from their home again.

Hollypaw gagged, absolutely appalled, "what could do something like that?"

"I don't know," Lionpaw responded, full of fright, "but I don't ever want to run into it."

Firestar awkwardly coughed, "that is tragic, Blackstar. Fortunately, ThunderClan has only positive things to report," he started, "we have been blessed with _five_ apprentices this moon," he waited for the murmurings of the massive clowder to die down before continuing, "three of our apprentices; Jaypaw, Rowanpaw, and Brookpaw were unable to make it to the Gathering. I felt it would have been unfair on our other apprentices had they call came. But both Lionpaw and Hollypaw are here tonight,"

Lionpaw puffed out his chest in response and he could feel Hollypaw's pride radiating from her. He could feel his fur growing hot as all the cats' eyes were fixed on him and his sister. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw both Thornpaw and Sootpaw leering. Mintpaw gave him a quick glance, which then morphed into surprise then back to a bored look.

Something didn't feel right. Those two ShadowClan apprentices were plotting, Lionpaw was sure of it.

The ThunderClan leader continued, "we've been lucky this Leaf-bare. There was frost, but no snow, and the prey is still plentiful. We have nothing else to report."

It was RiverClan's turn; "RiverClan has also been provided with three new apprentices this moon," Leopardstar called out, "Pebblepaw, Pouncepaw, and Silverpaw."

A brown tabby she-cat, Pouncepaw, and a grey tom, Pebblepaw, looked around shyly as the Clans fixed their gaze on them. But what caught Lionpaw's attention was the pretty, long-furred silver she-cat between them. The pale moonlight seemed to bounce off of her sleek fur. Her blue eyes swept over the Clans coldly, though thankfully it wasn't the same type of coldness Thornpaw had. Instead, it was more akin to Ivypaw's leer.

"Look at her fur!" gasped Hollypaw. She then, longingly, looked to her own black pelt. Insecurely, she added, "I hope mine can look like that."

Lionpaw only stopped staring after he heard what his sister mewed, "it looks fine, don't worry." he reassured.

Before the Gathering could continue it was interrupted by the arrival of two newcomers, one of which was the thought-deceased deputy of ThunderClan; Greystripe. Along with his kittypet compatriot, Millie. Initially, they had been mistaken as intruders and were treated as such, but once it was clear who they were Greystripe was met with a warm welcome by all four Clans. ThunderClan, now accompanied by the wayward warrior, left the Gathering and headed for camp.

The patrol returned at dawn and Greystripe was met by an equally warm welcome in camp as he had at the Gathering. While the Clan celebrated, Lionpaw slinked away with anxiety prickling at his pawpads. He woke up both Brookpaw and Rowanpaw, passing on to them Thornpaw's message like the tom had instructed him to.

Lionpaw couldn't understand why both of their tired expressions twisted into those of horror.


	15. 15 - Burn (2 of 3)

"U-um, Brookpaw? Rowanpaw?. . .are you both okay?" Lionpaw meekly asked.

Rowanpaw could only stare wide-eyed. He was here and that bastard had used his nephew like some messenger boy. Thornpaw had the gall to interact with his family, sending him a painful revelation that the tom most likely knew who his family was and would happily remind the dark ginger tabby they were in trouble. Where he had originally felt fear, he now only felt rage burning in him.

He swiftly got to his paws, "we're fine," gravely, he added, "you stay away from that cat from now on, Lionpaw. He's bad news, and keep back from anyone he talks to, okay? I'll warn your brother and sister, too."

Lionpaw asked, "are you going to tell Sparkclaw?"

He remembered his brother's distant gaze and his stutter from days earlier, along with what he told him. Apparently, his baby brother was suffering from a reoccurring nightmare, too. "Your dad's got enough to deal with. This is between us five, okay?"

His nephew gulped and nodded, saying nothing else.

A terrified whimper fell on Rowanpaw's ears, causing his heart to leap in his throat. Brookpaw - his powers. Swiftly, he whirled around to face the blue grey tom. His fur was bristling and his eyes were as round as moons. The older tom's heart wrenched, the young cat's gaze was distant.

"Jordan?" Rowanpaw called softly. He needed to be careful, otherwise Brookpaw will get himself hurt.

The tom didn't answer, he was hysterically mumbling and whining. The dark ginger tabby could hear his own heartbeat in his ears, but he couldn't hear any sort of humming coming from Brookpaw. His powers weren't active yet, thank God.

"What's wrong with him?" Lionpaw questioned, his voice low.

His uncle ignored him. Warily, Rowanpaw approached him. "Jordan? Calm down." he meowed, his voice louder than last time.

Brookpaw finally reacted, crying out in fear. "Get away from me!" he screamed, his ears flat against her head. His amber eyes were wild. Before Rowanpaw could react, the blue grey tom scrambled away out of the den. Out in the hollow, he whipped around hysterically before racing through the thorn tunnel. Some of the warriors called out to him, but he ignored them.

Rowanpaw cried, "Brookpaw!"

Both of their shouts had woken up the rest of the apprentices. Their pelts bristled, "shut up, both of you!" Jaypaw grumbled.

The dark ginger tabby glared at his nephew, before he could say anything Hazelpaw chimed in. "What's wrong with Brookpaw? Why's he so upset?" the white-and-grey she-cat frowned, her eyes were full of concern.

"I'll go talk to him." Berrypaw stated, about to march out of the apprentice's den. He was stopped by the eldest apprentice, holding his tail out in front of him. "Hey!" he hissed, "I can go calm him down."

"This isn't something you're involved in, Berrypaw," Rowanpaw responded, his voice stern. He turned around, stalking out the den, "I'll talk to him." he called back, _because I don't want any of you getting hurt._

As he approached the thorn tunnel, Squirrelflight padded up to him. "What's the matter with Brookpaw?" the she-cat inquired. Just like Hazelpaw, worry flashed in her green eyes.

Rowanpaw replied, "nothing. It's nothing."

"Nothing!?" the she-cat echoed, "do you think I'm mouse-brained?! He's my apprentice, I deserve to know."

He gave an impatient sigh, "it's a private thing, alright? I need to talk to him - alone."

"I'm coming too." she stated.

The two dark ginger cats glared at one another, both refusing to cave in to the other's wishes. Rowanpaw could see that Squirrelflight wouldn't be taking no for an answer and he did not have time to argue with her. "You can try and keep up." he raced out of the clearing, his paws hammering against the ground. The tom could hear her fading cry of outrage.

Rowanpaw knew he had to throw her off and he had to do it quickly. He zig-zagged through the trees, bursting through bushes, but he could could still hear her yowling at him. Thankfully, she was distant from him. But Squirrelflight would soon find him, she knew the territory better.

He needed something to mask his scent and he needed something quick. Suddenly, a foul odour burned his nostrils. Rowanpaw turned to see a pile of foxdung. He shuddered, "oh, you gotta be fuckin' kidding me." he growled, venom dripping from his words.

Squirrelflight continued dashing through the forest, scenting the air for Rowanpaw. But the trail had gone cold, but there was a scent of foxdung in the air which stung her nostrils. She sighed in both disappointment and disgust, but at least she could focus on finding Brookpaw. She began calling out for her apprentice; "Brookpaw! Brookpaw! If something's bothering you, we can talk about it!" she pleaded, but there was no response. She continued calling out for him, getting more and more desperate as she did.

After she left, Rowanpaw waited for a few minutes before crawling out of a nearby bush. He was seething with rage now, smelling like death itself. "I am going to kill someone." the tom glowered. He was absolutely filthy and desperately craving a shower.

With a huff, he began searching for Brookpaw. All the while he allowed neon to burn on his skin, getting rid of the rancid stench clinging to him and replacing it with whispy, colourful gas trails. While he no longer stank, he still felt dirty. "Jordan!" he called, "come on out!"

No answer.

The tom growled. It wouldn't take him long to race around the territory, but Squirrelflight was still out there - he wasn't ready to be driven out of his new home so soon. He had taken a big risk by 'cleaning' himself, now he would have to watch to see if his brother's mate was suspicious of him when he returned to camp.

It was around midday now and Rowanpaw had no luck finding him. He was hungry, irritated, and still in shock from what he had been told, though it was fading. The tom couldn't ignore the impending sense of danger building in him. Thornpaw would be coming for them, both of them. He shuddered at the memory of their first encounter, how he ruthlessly murdered two policemen just doing their job.

"Jordan!" he called again.

This time he was greeted with a rustling from a nearby bush. Out of it came Brookpaw, his tail dragging along the ground, his ears flat against his head, and his eyes tired. He didn't say anything.

Rowanpaw's features softened, "Jordan, can we talk about what's up? I'm here for you, buddy."

Brookpaw nodded weakly. "I remember everything," he sniffled, trembling, "h-he..." the tom sobbed.

"Take your time," the dark ginger tabby soothed, "come here." he meowed, embracing the younger cat.

The blue grey cat's body was racked by sobs, "my parents," he cried, "he killed my parents!"

After hearing that the elder tom's body was also shaking. But not with grief, but with rage. Was there anything Thornpaw wouldn't do? He was unforgivable. Rowanpaw gently rocked him back and fourth for a few moments before he pulled away from Brookpaw, looking into his grief-stricken eyes. The young tom had been completely traumatised by the experience, and Thornpaw must have known that and took advantage of it. Brookpaw had kept all of this inside him? Poor Brookpaw. Guilt coursed through the elder cat's body, why hadn't he noticed sooner? There had to be some sign of it. He vowed to keep him safe from now on, he was just a kid. He didn't deserve any of this.

"Listen to me," Rowanpaw started, "we're gonna get that sonuva bitch. I promise you."

The younger cat weakly nodded.

"And from now on, promise you'll tell me anything that's bothering you?"

"I promise."

"C'mon, let's get back to camp."

Just as they turned to head back, Squirrelflight burst through the trees and skidded to a halt, her green eyes blazing with fury for Rowanpaw. It died once she saw her apprentice, "Brookpaw!" she cried. The dark ginger cat paced over to him, "what's bothering you? You worried us sick!"

The blue grey cat mumbled, "sorry."

Squirrelflight gave him a reassuring lick between his ears, "do you want to tell me what's wrong? We'll go find somewhere to talk." she offered.

"I'm okay."

"Alright, but you can always talk to me." she reluctantly murmured to him, nuzzling her apprentice. It seemed like ThunderClan had grown fond of Brookpaw despite the little time he had spent here.

Rowanpaw knew that the she-cat would have words with him when she got a chance, plus Sparkclaw would too. But he didn't care, the tabby would happily take any punishment he was given - Brookpaw was more important. Suddenly, the scent of fire filled his nose. Frantically, he spun around and saw embers and black smoke floating and climbing through the air, though it was several meters away thankfully.

His hazel eyes widened, a forest fire! His mind began racing, anxiety was roaring inside him - he didn't what to do. Rowanpaw whipped around to Squirrelflight, who had also noticed the fire, "what do we do?!"

"We have to warn the Clan and get off of the territory." the she-cat answered, urgency in her tone.

Brookpaw whimpered, crouching low to the ground. "I think it's one of them!" he whispered harshly to Rowanpaw.

The tom's eyes widened, remembering the guy whose arms were covered in scars and his power. The dark ginger tabby's eyes narrowed. Looks like they were already bringing the fight to them. "Alright, let's go!"

The three cats raced off, frantically twisting through the forest and towards ThunderClan camp. Brookpaw, fear gripping his gut, turned to his side for reassurance from Rowanpaw. But he wasn't there. The tom turned back to Squirrelflight, who hadn't notice the other apprentice was gone. Brookpaw wanted to help, but he felt safer if he helped evacuate the Clan.

The baked ground felt uncomfortably warm underneath Rowanpaw's pads, but his body could take the heat thanks to his powers. With the embers surrounding him, clinging to the bark of trees, and the smoke and ash blocking out the sun it was like he was running through Hell. The crackling of fire was loud in his ears, almost drowning out any other sound. The tom kept low to the ground, staying away from the smoke that would scar his lungs. "Jesus, I'm actually fucking crazy." he mumbled.

It would be impossible to pick out the cat's scent, the smells of the forest fire were masking it. This was practically a suicidal mission for Rowanpaw, he could likely die before he even found the perpetrator. But he couldn't let him get to his family or Brookpaw. He had to stop the fire somehow.

The ginger tom halted, the sound of cracking suddenly broke through the ambient sounds around him. Without thinking, he leaped away from his current spot. A tree had fallen where he once stood. Rowanpaw had to remain vigilant. Cautiously, he looked around in a vain effort to look for the perpetrator.

Every fibre in his body was screaming for him to get out, to flee with the Clan and settle somewhere else. But not only was he fighting to protect his family, but his home too. They had taken everything from him once but Rowanpaw refused to let it happen a second time.

There was a deafening roaring sound, a cloud of hot ash swept up Rowanpaw and sent him sprawling, landing hard against a tree. His body was racked by a vicious cough as he wobbly got to his paws. The tom considered himself lucky that the ash clinging to his pelt wasn't harming him, he had natural heat resistance thanks to his powers. But still he shook it off the best he could. He glared in the direction of where the ash had come from; a mass of smoke.

"Oh? That didn't kill you?" a voice called out. It made Rowanpaw shiver, it sounded like the devil trying to pass himself off as a regular human but he couldn't keep the edge of malice and contempt out of his tone.

A figure appeared from out the smoke, his orange eyes fixed on him. The tom's forelegs, shoulders, and neck were covered with nasty purple-red burn scars. His dark grey pelt was unkempt and he had a skinny frame. The cat inhaled the ash, puffing it back out as if he was smoking a cigarette. "Then this will be painful for you." he scornfully hissed.

Rowanpaw growled, racing forward in a streak of neon and tackling the scarred tom. The two cats tumbled, hissing and spitting. The scent of ShadowClan flooded the ThunderClan apprentice's nostrils. It suddenly dawned on him that he had been standing in the heart of enemy territory just over a week ago. The tom would have shivered had he not been engaged in a fight for survival.

It was a difficult fight, despite his skinny appearance underneath the tom's messy pelt was solid muscle. With a growl, the ShadowClan cat shoved him off with his hind legs. He had infused the kick with ash, sending Rowanpaw sprawling with stinging wounds coated in ash.

Groaning in pain, Rowanpaw got back to his paws. His stomach was burning, the most vulnerable part of him. His eyes widened, the ShadowClan cat looming over him with ash spewing from his paws. Quickly, he rushed backwards, leaving a neon trail in his wake. Columns of cinders and embers erupted as the tom slammed his paws to the ground.

 _Gotta keep my distance,_ Rowanpaw thought to himself. "What the Hell's your problem, huh?" he demanded, firing off bullets of neon, "what have I ever done to you?!"

The ShadowClan cat's features twisted in pain as a neon bullet struck his shoulder whilst barely dodging the others. "Nothing. But killing you was the only way for me to end up here," he grunted. Ash erupted underneath his paws, launching the tom forward.

The ThunderClan had no time to react, his body was weakening. The dark tom pinned him, keeping him down with a paw placed firmly on the side of his head. Rowanpaw could now only look to his left, despite how hard he tried to give him a death stare. "You're lucky I'm only after you and that kid, but I wasn't told I couldn't burn your forest to the ground," he sneered, "say 'hello' to my village in Hell, will you? Tell them it's from Lethabo, or Sootpaw rather."

The realisation of what Rowanpaw was dealing with suddenly struck him; the South African accent, his powers, burning the forest. Why hadn't he realised sooner? Five years ago, a village on the coast of South Africa had been completely wiped off the map along with its 500 inhabitants. It had been an event that sent ripples throughout the world as governments introduced a zero tolerance policy towards metahumans - existing was now a crime thanks to one mass murderer.

"You bastard," Rowanpaw growled, his outrage ringing in his voice, "you vile piece of shit!"

"Not any less vile than the rest of you." retorted Sootpaw. His paw was enveloped in ash and embers, intensifying with each passing moment. Rowanpaw's eyes widened, white hot pain roaring through his body. He didn't know how much more heat his body could handle and it was taking him everything not to scream out in agony.

Suddenly, what sounded like a gun shot rang out in the burning forest. Sootpaw stopped for a second, but before he could continue with his slow, painful execution of the ThunderClan apprentice a blue grey blur shot through the trees. It twisted through the air, grabbing the dark cat by his scruff. His orange eyes were wide with shock as he was swept off his paws like a kit who had been snatched away by a hawk.

The sudden addition of mass slowed the blur down, revealing itself to be Brookpaw. His amber eyes were shining with determination, only small flickers of grief and fear betrayed his courage. He used his remaining momentum to land on his paws, trading places with Sootpaw on the ground. Brookpaw then slammed the ShadowClan apprentice to the ground, the air squeezed out of his lungs.

Rowanpaw could only watch in awe. His friend had just saved him from an agonisingly slow demise. A new admiration for his fellow apprentice sparked in him, it would have been so much easier for him to run rather than face a dangerous psychopath like Sootpaw. Yet here he was.

As the scarred tom bounced and skidded on the baked ground, coughing and wheezing, Brookpaw readied himself for battle. His fur was bristling and his lip was curled back in a snarl. "Hey, matchsticks!" he yowled, "remember me? It's about time I repaid you for burning my apartment down!"


	16. 16 - Burn (3 of 3)

Brookpaw burst into camp, just behind his mentor. He could feel his heart thudding against his ribs in his chest, threatening to break through. Blood was roaring in his ears, almost like he would being reminded of the danger he was in. Despite the anxiety and fear churning in his gut like a storm, the tom felt weary from grief. It was like part him had given up.

With a sense of urgency, Squirrelflight raced towards the Highledge and clamber up it. The cats in the hollow watched with concerned interest. Brookpaw felt his heart wrench, none of them knew what kind of peril they were in. Rowanpaw had rushed to face that danger head on, but if it was to buy time or for revenge he didn't know.

"Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath Highledge for a Clan meeting!" his mentor yowled. Quickly, ThunderClan gathered whispering with concern.

Lionpaw and Berrypaw gathered close to Brookpaw, "what's happening? Isn't Firestar the only one who can call Clan meetings?" the cream-furred tom murmured.

"There's a forest fire." the blue gray replied, noting the drained tone of his voice. Part of him felt numb, he couldn't get his mind off of his parents. Sorrow was beginning to well up in him, they didn't deserve to die. It was all his fault, Brookpaw should have never went home that day.

"What?!" Lionpaw cried, "we have to get off the territory!"

"I know."

Squirrelflight issued her warning, "there's a forest fire, just past the twoleg path, we have to evacuate before it spreads!"

The hollow erupted in yowls of fear, especially from the older cats. Brookpaw wasn't sure as to why, until he got a good look of their faces. They had been driven off of their territory before by a fire, maybe they even lost Clanmates. None of them wanted to repeat that event:

"Not again!"

"Is StarClan sending us a message? Was it right to move away from the forest?"

"Where are we going to go?!"

Firestar joined his daughter on the Highledge, she moved back so the Clan could direct their full attention to him. "This isn't the time for panic! All apprentice and warriors help the queens, kits, and elders out of camp. Leafpool, take a few warriors to help you take as many herbs as you can. We head for WindClan territory!"

The orders were clear and Brookpaw helped with the evacuation effort. Without question, Hazelpaw and himself carried Icekit and Foxkit respectively for Ferncloud, a ThunderClan queen. Everybody's fear scent was pungent in the air, terrified of the uncertain future before them. This was all in vain, this wasn't a forest fire; this was the grim reaper coming for Rowanpaw and his souls. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't tell them. Who would believe him? Even if they did, they might offer both of them up so that monster wouldn't take them as well.

ThunderClan began their migration into WindClan territory, anxiety cracking in the air like lightning. Brookpaw could hear the cats who attended the Gathering speculating if what had burned the twoleg nest down on ShadowClan territory was behind this is well. Brookpaw's heart lept in his throat, causing him to clench his jaw. He had killed a family? Thoughts of the apprentice's own family flashed before his mind's eye. It was all too much. Icekit squeaked in pain, wriggling to break loose from the apprentice's maw.

"You're hurting her!" Ferncloud hissed, her green eyes shining with a fierce maternal instinct to protect her young daughter.

Flustered and ashamed, Brookpaw gently set down Icekit. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean it." he apologised, his voice cracking. With one final heated glare, the queen gently picked up her kit by the scruff.

Hazelpaw gave him a gentle, reassuring nudge. She was worried about Brookpaw, he could see it in her eyes. Perhaps if she wasn't carrying Foxkit the she-cat would give him words of support instead. Maybe he should talk to her sometime.

The blue gray tom looked behind him, seeing the billowing black clouds of smoke in the sky. Rowanpaw was still in there, fighting against that scarred guy most likely. He was the one with heat-based powers. Brookpaw felt guilt build up in him. He should be fighting alongside his friend, he had chosen to run away. The older cat could be dying in there, in desperate need of his help but he was too yellow-bellied to come to his aid.

He didn't deserve to call him his friend, not when he let him face danger alone.

It was then as if Brookpaw's guilt has taken control of him, making him take a step in the direction they were fleeing from, and then another. Soon, he had broken out into a sprint, leaving ThunderClan behind. If any of the cats called for him to come back, he hadn't heard it. All he could hear was the roaring of his blood in his ears.

The apprentice wouldn't be quick enough to reach Rowanpaw in time; he had to use his powers to get there. Brookpaw felt uncertainty build up in him, could he even use sound to travel? He could barely use them without rattling his bones. But then a thought struck him.

The Japanese side of his family would send his own family packages once a month, his cousin always sent him manga after learning of his interest in comics. He wanted to introduce him to some Japanese ones, which helped him keep his Japanese good too. The blue gray tom was beginning to draw comparisons with himself and the main character of one of those mangas, along with how he overcame the backlash of his powers.

 _If I activate sound throughout my entire body,_ Brookpaw thought to himself, _I might be able to use my powers better._ He could feel sound resonating through his muscles, his bones, his blood. It was at the same intensity he had when he saved Lionpaw from the fox, but it was barely doing anything - so he doubled it. Brookpaw could now feel his body vibrating, almost like his power was trying to break away from him.

 _That's it!_ He mentally cheered. Tensing his legs, he leaped fowards and thanks to his powers he could go further than ever before. He eventually got the hang of it, speeding through ThunderClan territory like a jet. "Thank you, Kamirou!" he cried out.

Soon enough, he was in the forest fire. Brookpaw could feel anger welling up in him, he was growing tired of others trying to take things from him. They had succeeded once, but he was determined to make sure there wasn't a second time. He couldn't scent the one who done this, the smoke and cinders hiding him well. But there was the sound of roaring ash, followed by a cry from Rowanpaw.

Urgancy and determination ripped through Brookpaw, tensing himself for another jump and hoping he wasn't too late to save Rowanpaw. He allowed more sound energy to build in his legs, launching the apprentice forward like a bullet. Brookpaw burst into a clearing, twisting through the air and grabbing his friend's assailant by the scruff, and slamming him into the ground.

Brookpaw, his muscles clenched, felt rage build in him. This cat thought he could get away with murder of his friend, an entire innocent family, and his own family. But today justice would be served. "Hey, matchsticks!" he yowled, "remember me? It's about time I repaid you for burning my apartment down!"

Rowanpaw shaking from pain and shock got to his paws. The place where the dark tom had tried to burn him was covered in soot, but otherwise seemed to have only a first degree burn. There was gratitude in his hazel eyes, "Jordan?"

"Al, are you okay?" Brookpaw demanded.

The dark ginger cat replied, "don't worry about me. But you shouldn't be here; he's way too dangerous."

The apprentice felt fear grip his gut, "yeah, I know. But I couldn't just leave you to fight him yourself."

Rowanpaw opened his mouth to reply, but then suddenly shoved him and sent him tumbling. He streaked away in a flash of neon as a torrent of ash engulfed where they once stood. Sootpaw growled, the cold anger in his eyes replaced by a smouldering ire, "both of you are going to burn."

Brookpaw pounced, taking the ShadowClan by surprise due to his speed. He landed a swift blow, knocking the dark tom away. It seemed that his strength had been artificially altered by sound too, his attack rang out with a bang. He couldn't make any jokes, the situation was far too serious for that.

But Sootpaw quickly recovered, sending an ash cloud up behind him to slow himself down. His two front paws were smouldering and as he raised them both ThunderClan apprentices could see that his paw pads were heavily scarred, the flesh on them practically twisted.

Rowanpaw fired off a bullet of neon, "not this time!" it caught his opponent in his foreleg, making him recoil and hiss in response. Taking the opportunity, Brookpaw shot forward but was batted away by the remaining smouldering paw, he coughed and sputtered as he was flung back and his lungs burned.

Sootpaw quicky raised his two front paws, slamming his front paws down to send a wave of ash to bury the blue gray tom. Rowanpaw rushed over, gripping him by the scruff, and dragged him to safety. He could only cough, but he tried his best to say thank you.

The ShadowClan tom grunted, "that hurt."

Brookpaw responded, his voice scratchy, "why'd you kill them?! I heard what happened at the Gathering, you killed a family! They never done anything to you!" he never thought that he could harbour so much hate for one person. But his own hatred seemed to pale in comparison to the fury rolling off of Rowanpaw like waves.

The scarred tom scoffed, "humans are vermin, did you think I came here because I liked the idea of being a cat? No, I came here to get away from you all!" it seemed that he struck a nerve, Sootpaw's contempt for humanity resounded in each word. He fired off a missle of cinders, it veered through the air and left a trail of ash in its wake.

Both toms barely moved out of the way, the force from the impact still sent them flying but ash hadn't stuck to their pelts. If it was even possible, Sootpaw's unkempt pelt seemed even more wild and his orange eyes were dark. "I was ridiculed by _everyone_ I ever knew but the world mourned them, how is that fair? Why didn't anyone ever see them for what they were? Because cancer can't condemn itself; that's why."

Brookpaw could only shudder, watching ash and smoke rise from the scarred cat's body. It was like his body couldn't contain his pent up rage, choosing to release it as cinders. But the apprentice noticed that there seemed to be missing patches in his fur, it seemed that using his powers hurt him physically.

Anxiety roared in him like the fires surrounding them. If Sootpaw wasn't taken care off soon, then he would burn the forest to the ground. Maybe he would go after ThunderClan too and in Brookpaw's mind flashed the faces of his Clanmates; Hazelpaw, Berrypaw, Lionpaw, Squirrelflight, Sparkclaw, and Firestar. He couldn't let this monster hurt them. His fears began melting away to determination.

Rowanpaw enveloped his paws in neon, "I don't give a shit!" he roared. He landed a blow across the scarred cat's face, sending him stumbling. The tabby landed a second hit before Sootpaw could recover, nearly knocking him over, "you wanna be a cynical jackass? That's fine. But don't you dare act like it gives you some license to kill, you hear?!". But he retaliated, landing a swipe that was followed by an explosion of cinders.

"Al!" The younger of the two apprentices cried, watching as he was launched back. The elder tom collided with a tree and collapsed, too weak to get back up. Brookpaw's eyes widened, fear had devoured his determination and he felt helpless. It was only him now, that last bastion.

But he had to act in spite of fear, watching as Sootpaw readied himself to send a torrent of ash in the direction of Rowanpaw. Brookpaw shot forward, "get away from him!" he cried, and tackled the ShadowClan tom, but was soon kicked off. Sootpaw's eyes were now blazing with a wrath that could no longer be quelled. "You know what I think? I think you're just a manchild on a power trip!" Brookpaw spat.

The tom roared in outrage and his scarred paw shot forward, a massive torrent of cinders following it. Brookpaw shot his own paw upwards, sending every ounce of sound energy he could muster into his foreleg. He grit his teeth, feeling his bones break and his muscles tear, his body couldn't handle it. A victorious cry came from Brookpaw, all of the sound energy in his paw was released in a powerful sonic boom - all one hundred percent of his power.

The wind had picked up, gales launching ash, cinders, high up in the air. Brookpaw could only stare, wide-eyed and in an unbearable amount of pain. His quick thinking and minimised the damage of the fire, practically obliterating it. His foreleg, completely useless, was soaked a deep crimson with his own blood. His bones were dust now. The rest of his pelt was covered in ash, thankfully none of it was hot. Sootpaw was nowhere in sight, probably now somewhere in the stratosphere.

"I-I gotcha, matchsticks." Brookpaw weakly grinned with triumph. The agony he was in, along with what he just done, had sent him into shock.

Rowanpaw stumbled forward, in awe of the awesome power he just witnessed. "Jordan, your arm." he grimaced. Despite the tiredness of his hazel eyes , there was glimmers of fear.

"Huh?" the young cat meowed, distant. He tried moving his mangled arm, but didn't respond, "you think this is bad? you should've seen the other guy." he nervously chuckled. Brookpaw could no longer keep himself balanced on his hind legs, falling onto his back.

The dark ginger tabby wearily approached him, "I can fix your arm, just keep still." neon enveloped his paws, but it was noticeably softer than the glow it usually took. Rowanpaw placed both of his paws on Brookpaw's foreleg, neon wrapped around the mangled limb. "Never do that again, you hear?" he warned, his tone was both firm yet gentle.

Brookpaw silently agreed with him. That wasn't worth getting his foreleg completely, irreversibly damaged for it. "You can heal people? Since when?" he asked.

Rowanpaw remained focused on his efforts, but still he answered him. "Since I was twenty. My girlfriend for four years at the time was a meta, like us. Her power was healing people by putting their bodies into overdrive or something like that,"

"You don't know how it works?" The younger tom inquired.

The dark ginger tabby shook his head, "not really, I'm not a doctor but it has something to do with antibodies or white blood cells. Being with her for so long actually changed mine's, now I can do the same thing with neon." he explained.

The ThunderClan apprentice could feel his foreleg healing at a rapid rate, almost as if time was being reversed to before he went all out. Soon enough, Rowanpaw removed his paws. The blue gray cat moved his foreleg, finding that it was almost as good as new. It was still incredibly painful, covered in blood, and there was a wound foreleg and paw. They would leave scars, permanent reminders of how he should never go all out again.

"Thanks, dude." Brookpaw purred, his hollow voice ringing with gratitude. He got to his paws slowly, keeping his injured leg off the ground as much as he could.

Rowanpaw sighed, "well, how are we gonna explain this?"

"StarClan? I mean, ThunderClan's pretty religious so I'm sure they'll buy it if we claim it was divine wind or whatevs." the younger apprentice offered. He meant no offence to his Clanmates, but he doubted they would look further into it. Especially if Leafpool's interpretation of the event was StarClan saving ThunderClan territory.

Hopefully she would.

"Yeah, and you rescued me from a fire and got your arm caught when a tree fell on it." Rowanpaw added.

The two toms supported one another, weakly heading for WindClan territory. Their first adversary had been overcome, and hopefully the other three would think twice about taking the fight to them again.

"You smell awful."

"Yeah, I've been rolling in fox shit."

"Yeesh, that's pretty crap."

They both laughed.

Night had fallen and ThunderClan had settled back into their camp, having bought the story that StarClan had stopped the forest fire with a mighty gale. Both toms had been admitted to the medicine cat den. But on ShadowClan territory, a cloud of whispy ash began taking the shape of a cat. It compacted, turning into Sootpaw.

The scarred tom leaned against a pine tree, growling. He had been so close to his goal, but that freakishly strong American almost killed him. Fortunately, he turned himself into ash just before the sound energy had been released. Still, it took him a whole day to reform. He was exhausted, terribly so.

 _He'll be furious you didn't succeed, you know._ a voice sounded out in his mind, though it wasn't Sootpaw's subconscious. Rather, it was Thornpaw using telepathy. It always left his head feeling murky, as if it was filled with muddy water.

"I don't care." scorned Sootpaw, stumbling towards ShadowClan camp. This wasn't the end just yet, not until both of those Americans were cremated.


	17. 17 - The Kids Aren't Alright (1 of 4)

Two moons has passed since the forest fire on ThunderClan territory and all had been calm since then to both Rowanpaw and Brookpaw's pleasure, at least for metahuman activity. Neither of the other three had shown up since the defeat of the now presumed dead Sootpaw. Rowanpaw should be happy about that, but it only made him nervous. Why hadn't they attacked again, especially when they were in recovery?

He didn't know and it troubled him. The apprentice couldn't go out hunting without looking behind his back, always expecting the cat who used his nephew like a messenger boy. But he was never there. The paranoia was starting to keep him up at night, like how it was right now.

Rowanpaw looked out from the apprentice's den out into the hollow, his chin resting on his paws. For the most part, the past two moons had passed by fairly quickly. Day in and day out he had been training to make up for lost time. As the dark ginger tabby found out, his sparring matches are done differently from Brookpaw's because he was much older than the other apprentices, so he had the privilege of getting beaten up by warriors around his age instead.

It always hurt like hell, leaving him exhausted and aching. "Take your lumps now and you'll be kicking ass." Sparkclaw had encouraged him. Thinking of his baby brother made Rowanpaw sigh, he hadn't sit down with him and told him what happened like he should do.

What held the apprentice back was his concerns about his brother's mental health. Sparkclaw had a nightmare recently, the same one for the past seven moons if the warriors were right, along with him stuttering badly sometimes, shivering at shadows, and holding a distant gaze. Rowanpaw was unsure if his warning might push his brother over the edge. Frankly, he wasn't going to find out.

The tom looked over the sleeping forms of his nephew and niece, Lionpaw and Hollypaw. The black she-cat had swapped positions with Jaypaw, both realising they had a talent for each other's previous position. He felt a surge of pride for the three of them, they were already mature enough to know what was best for them - even if it went against what they wanted. If that had been him then he would've stubbornly went down the path he wanted to go down.

Rowanpaw then turned his attention Brookpaw, who's sides were rising and falling while he slept. The blue gray tom's position gave him a full view of the scars on his bicep and paw. The apprentice had to look away in shame, those scars were his fault. Had Rowanpaw not been so headstrong then Brookpaw wouldn't have needed to go full out. His eyes wandered to his own stomach, where a burn scar was.

The dark ginger tabby silently got up out of his nest and padded out into the hollow. A newleaf breeze ruffled his pelt as he looked up into the night sky, sighing. What was he supposed to do?

Whitewing, a warrior she-cat, padded out of the warriors den. She had a small frame and long white fur. Her green eyes glinted in the moonlight as she approached Rowanpaw. "Rowanpaw? Why are you up so late?" she asked.

The tom responded, "I couldn't sleep."

"You're hardly going to be able to stay awake during training tomorrow." warned Whitewing.

Rowanpaw shrugged, "well, that's gonna be Sparkclaw's issue. If he tries to get me outta my nest I'm gonna rip his fur out."

The she-cat gave an amused purr in response, "sometimes I swear you're his mentor, not the other way around."

He gave an amused snort, "how come _you're_ up so late?"

"I couldn't sleep," Whitewing admitted, "say, how about we go hunting? We might not catch much, but it's better than sitting around until sunrise."

Rowanpaw nodded, they might as well make themselves useful while they were awake. They headed through the thorn tunnel, nodding to Brightheart on their way out. Sympathy pulled at his heart when he saw her, he had heard what happened to her and never failed to see Brookpaw gaining similar, gruesome scars if he wasn't careful.

The two cats began their moonlit hunt and not much was to be found in the way of prey, just as Whitewing had predicted. It gave Rowanpaw time to think, his mind drifting towards his kin. Neither Lionpaw or Hollypaw were showing signs of having a meta gene, but Jaypaw seemed to. The gray tabby could accurately tell what other were feeling before they said anything, despite not being able to see body language. Perhaps he was a telepath of some kind.

That thought made Rowanpaw feel naked in a way, having someone else in his head felt like the upmost violation of privacy. He would talk to Jaypaw and his two siblings. If they were meta, they didn't have to deal with it alone. They had a support group; even if they weren't aware of it.

A rustle in the bushes startled the mouse the dark ginger tabby was stalking, sending it scurrying away. Whitewing appeared from out the bush, carrying an impressive three mice by their tails in her maw. "Sorry! I didn't know you almost had one." she apologised, putting down her catches.

Rowanpaw stood upright, "it's fine, don't worry about it; I caught one earlier. I was distracted anyways."

Concern flashed in her eyes, "it's everything alright? Is it about the fire?"

The tom responded, "no, it's nothing to do with that. It's just a private thing, y'know? I don't plan on sharing it with you." though his words may have been a little harsh, it was not his intent. Rowanpaw realised his fault, but he kept quiet about it.

Whitewing's ears dropped ever so slightly, "that's fine, but I'm your Clanmate, Rowanpaw; you can always come to me if something's wrong. That goes for the rest of ThunderClan too, we take care of one another."

A similar dialogue ran through Rowanpaw's mind: _"hey, we're metas; we look after each other, right?"_ and for an instant nostalgia twinged in his heart. _Oh Rebecca, what'd you say to something like that?_ After a moment, he replied, "thanks, I'll keep that in mind." The tom felt guilt flow through him, that sounded rude.

The warrior gave him a friendly nudge, "you know, Sparkclaw asked me to spar with you. It's a shame you won't be up for it tomorrow."

There was a playful glint in the apprentice's hazel eyes, his guilt melting away, "yeah? Well how about we spar right now?"

Whitewing's ears perked up, "right now?"

Rowanpaw nodded, "don't worry, I'll go easy on you."

The she-cat bowled him over, wrapping her forelegs around him to soften the blow from the ground. His eyes were wide with surprise, he hadn't expected that. Whitewing looked at him, triumphant and smug. "I'll do the same." she smirked.

"Hey, you didn't warn me!" the apprentice protested. He was hot with embarrassment, his reflexes should have caught her. Rowanpaw noticed how soft her fur was, she was like a walking cloud. He wouldn't mind if they stayed like this.

"You're not going to get a warning in a real battle, are you?" Whitewing retorted.

"At least I'm prepared," Rowanpaw then flipped the white she-cat over, pinning her to the ground just as she did to him. "Are you, though?" he challenged.

With a playful growl, she kicked him off. The two cats batted at one another, issuing challenges to one another and laughing. For what felt like the first time in ages, Rowanpaw was having fun. Whitewing slithered underneath him, her paw was hurtling towards his hind leg.

But the dark ginger tabby was too quick; darting away from the she-cat, turning around, and bowling her over. "Gotcha." Rowanpaw grinned, panting. If felt as if they had been sparring for hours. Who was he kidding, sparring? That was practically playing like a bunch of kids.

Whitewing smiled, "fine, you win," she admitted, gently pushing him off of her. "You're definitely getting better. Firestar made the right decision giving you Sparkclaw as a mentor." she complimented.

"Thanks." the dark ginger tabby replied, yawning. He heard Whitewing softly yawn at his side, "tired?" he asked.

"Tired." the white she-cat confirmed. They walked back to camp together, bidding one another a good night's rest. Rowanpaw slumped into his nest, his eyelids drooping. Whitewing reminded him so much of Rebecca.

The next day, at sun high, Rowanpaw emerged from the apprentices den. He passed by Brookpaw and Hazelpaw, sharing tongues with one another. When he first heard of the tradition, he didn't know what to expect. The tom was relieved to find that it was just grooming.

He approached his brother, who was sharing tongues with Squirrelflight. "Hey, Al. What's up?" Sparkclaw greeted in between grooming licks of his mate's pelt.

"Not much," Rowanpaw responded, "but we've gotta talk, D. You mind if I steal him for a bit?" he meowed, turning to the dark ginger she-cat.

"It's not a bother." she replied.

Sparkclaw brushed muzzles with Squirrelflight, leaving with his older brother. "What's wrong?" he asked, his voice low.

"Nothing, I just think it's time we gave Hollypaw, Lionpaw, and Jaypaw the talk about-" Rowanpaw responded.

Sparkclaw cut him off, "-Leafpool takes care of that, Al." he couldn't keep the subtle laugh out of his voice.

"No, not _the_ talk!" the dark ginger tabby, "the m talk!" his voice was lowered, yet his words were still harsh.

The brown tabby looked grim, "ah, that talk."

Rowanpaw flicked his tail, "c'mon."

His hazel eyes scanned the camp for his nephews and niece, luckily finding all of them by the fresh-kill pile, sorting through it for some lunch. Rowanpaw moved towards them, a serious aura exerted from him. Jaypaw, either having heard his footsteps or sensed his presence, turned to face him. His unfocused eyes stared into him, "Sparkclaw? Rowanpaw?"

Both Lionpaw and Hollypaw turned around, "hi!" the she-cat greeted. Rowanpaw felt his heart warm, she was always so happy to see him.

The dark tabby smiled, "hey, angel. How's training been?"

Hollypaw responded proudly, "it's going great. Brackenfur says I'm a quick learner."

Rowanpaw gave the she-cat a quick lick between the ears, "that's great, I'm proud of you," he gave a throaty purr, "I'm proud of all of you."

"Ashfur said I'm a great fighter." Lionpaw chimed in, not wanting Hollypaw to have all of their uncle's attention. Sparkclaw responded, giving his son a lick on the air with a proud look on his face.

Jaypaw leered, "did you want to talk to us about something?"

While it seemed like a question, Rowanpaw could tell that it was a prompt more than anything. The gray tabby knew what their intention was, having either peered into their minds or he had felt it in the two's aura. Those were just guesses Rowanpaw had made, really he didn't understand how his nephew's power worked; but he was sure he had them.

Rowanpaw responded, "yeah, we did. C'mon, kids," he said, beckoning them with his tail, "we're gonna have a talk."

"Leafpool wants me back in the medicine cat den soon, we're going to go over what herbs we need. So, maybe pick your times better, Rowanpaw." Jaypaw responded.

Rowanpaw glared and Sparkclaw snorted, "mind your manners, Jay!" he scolded, "that's your uncle you're talking to, not your friend."

The tom must have realised that this wasn't the time to argue, following after Rowanpaw and Sparkclaw along with his brother and sister. Both Lionpaw and Hollypaw shared anxious glances as the disappeared through the thorn tunnel.


	18. 18 - The Kids Aren't Alright (2 of 4)

Rowanpaw and Sparkclaw had brought Lionpaw, Hollypaw, and Jaypaw to where they had discussed their own suspicions of the three. The medicine cat apprentice could scent willows pungent in the newleaf air as he twisted over the roots of a tree. They were at the low-hanging tree. He had to give his father and uncle credit, this was a great place to discuss something of a private matter such as this.

Both Lionpaw and Hollypaw's anxiety were rolling off them like waves, almost like they were lapping against Jaypaw's pelt. Fear crackled around them like lightning in the air. He could sense Rowanpaw's emotion, urgency emitting from him. But what concerned him the most was his father.

Sparkclaw's emotions were dark, darker than even Brambleclaw's when there was foxes on ThunderClan territory three moons ago. Did he not want them to have powers? Jaypaw could feel his fur slowly rise in indignation, why was it a bad thing? No, that couldn't be right. The apprentice tried to focus on his father, reaching into his mind. He didn't get far though, a mass of shadowy brambles preventing him from peering into his head.

Jaypaw gulped, something awful must have happened to his father, something nobody seemed to know about it save for himself. A morbid curiosity arose in him. "Alright, this is as far as we go." Rowanpaw's voice sounded out.

The three apprentices sat. Lionpaw and Hollypaw's anxiety was almost crushing to Jaypaw. For their sake, and his own, he ran his tail reassuringly down their backs. "So, what are we out here for?" he inquired.

Sparkclaw answered, "because we have something to tell you. There's..." he paused, looking to find the right words. "There's a part of me that you three might have. When it first shows up, if you _do_ have it, it'll be scary but it's alright; we're here for you."

Jaypaw frowned, his father wasn't great when it came to speeches. But wonder filled him, did he also have powers? Is that what he meant? The apprentice remembered Firestar's dream and the prophecy:

 _"There will be three, kin of your kin, who hold the power of the stars in their paws."_

His mind began to race. If Sparkclaw has powers then where did he fit into the prophecy? Jaypaw's father probably didn't, after all it was about Firestar's kin and not Sparkclaw's. He wondered if Rowanpaw had powers too and he was about to reach into his uncle's mind to find out before Hollypaw spoke up.

"W-what do you mean?" she asked with uncertainty, the emotion seeping out of her.

Rowanpaw was the first to respond, only after muttering to his sibling "I'll take it from here, D."

"Thanks, Al."

Jaypaw always wondered why his uncle and father had strange nicknames for both him and siblings, along with each other. Like 'angel' for Hollypaw, whatever that meant. But he listened intently for what Rowanpaw was about to say.

"Me and your dad are something called metas, you three might be too." Rowanpaw meowed. There was a pause, followed by an alien sound unlike anything Jaypaw has ever heard before. _So that's what we are,_ the apprentice thought to himself. He was almost knocked over by the immense surprise that exploded from his siblings. Hollypaw gasped in fright, but Lionpaw's gasp seemed more awe-stricken than afraid. Jaypaw tried to sniff the air, hoping that he would at least be able to scent whatever Rowanpaw was doing. But he found nothing.

Rowanpaw comforted the she-cat, "hey, darling. It's alright; I know it's scary at first, but you've got a support group if your own powers show up. We'll help you out." he promised. His words seemed to soothe Hollypaw, her overpowering anxiety was beginning to fade. But slivers of it still remained.

Lionpaw meowed excitedly, "so we'll be able to do stuff like that? We'll be the greatest warriors ThunderClan has even seen!"

"Get in line, champ." Sparkclaw responded, his voice full of good humour.

Rowanpaw cut in, "if you do have powers, you're going to have to make sure who you're telling is someone you whole-heartedly trust; if you tell the wrong cat then it won't end well."

The fear from both of his siblings once again emerged, again Jaypaw ran his tail along their spines to comfort them. Didn't he realise he was scaring them? Jaypaw felt frustation pluck at his heart; of course it was something that could only be seen. "What was it?" he inquired. The tom wanted to change the subject, hopefully getting rid of the fears of his siblings in the process.

"Why don't you reach in their heads and find out?" challenged Rowanpaw.

The gray tom's eyes widened in surprise, taken aback by his uncle's words. He could feel the shocked eyes of Lionpaw and Hollypaw boring into him. His fur felt hot. How did he figure out he had powers? This talk was to make them aware they might have powers, not to out those that did. "How'd you know?" demanded Jaypaw.

His uncle responded, "you don't exactly try to hide it, Jay. Do you really think nobody would notice how you know how someone's feeling before they open their mouth?"

Jaypaw remained in a stunned silence. How many other cats had noticed? But he pushed thoughts away, focusing on Hollypaw. Peering into her mind, he saw what she saw; a dark ginger tabby's paw enveloped in a reddish-pink light. The young tom was in awe.

"Lionpaw, Hollypaw; if you ever develop powers we want you to come straight to us. Jaypaw's lucky his power isn't flashy like Al's, but we can't say the same for you." Sparkclaw meowed.

Both of his siblings responded, "Okay."

Then Lionpaw asked a question, "what's your power, dad?"

Jaypaw was nearly crushed by the dark emotion rolling off of their father once he heard what his son had to say. He tried to reach into his father's mind only to be confronted by an indecipherable whirlwind of emotions and memories. It was like he was feeling and experiencing a thousand different things at once. Jaypaw pulled out, feeling as if his mind would explode if he stayed in there for any longer.

Sparkclaw responded, but his voice was low, "e-electricity, Lionpaw. Let's get back to camp."

The young tom hardly took note of the concern radiating off of his kin for his father. A morbid curiosity filled him, what had Sparkclaw seen and felt that shook him up so much? Jaypaw had always thought of his father as a fierce warrior that any Clan cat would be reluctant to fight. Even with his power, he had noticed nothing out of the ordinary from him. Perhaps he hadn't been paying enough attention, because clearly something was wrong.

"What's it something I said?" Lionpaw winced.

Rowanpaw responded, "no, your dad's just been really busy with training me and finding the right time to have a chat with you three. He's exhausted, that's all." he didn't even believe his own words, Jaypaw noted. That made his stomach feel even tighter.

The family walked back to camp in silence, something that the gray tom was thankful for. Maybe if he entered Sparkclaw's dreams he would find out what was wrong with him. Jaypaw also pondered if he should tell Lionpaw and Hollypaw about the prophecy and that it was a matter of when, not if, their powers emerged. His brother was right, they would be the greatest ThunderClan has ever seen.

But a sudden thought struck him, who else in the Clans were meta? If there was any at all? He didn't get to think much more on the subject. As he exited the thorn tunnel back into ThunderClan camp, Brookpaw approached him. "Hey, Jaypaw." he greeted.

 _Oh, great,_ Jaypaw grumbled mentally. He had never liked Brookpaw, his boisterous attitude and his voice were grating. Why Lionpaw looked up to him he would never know, sure he saved him from a fox but Hollypaw wasn't trying to suck up to Rowanpaw for it. "Hello." He greeted curtly.

"Can I ask you something real quick?"

"What?" Jaypaw could feel his irritation building. He just wanted to go back to the peace and quiet of the medicine cat den, for StarClan's sake. This chatterbox seemed determined to postpone that for the next few hours or so.

"Do you really talk to the dead when you go to the Moonpool?" Brookpaw inquired, his voice low and quivering. There was a desperate hope bleeding out of him. That, combined with the question, completely took Jaypaw off guard.

He eventually replied, "I share tongues with StarClan, what do you think?"

Brookpaw didn't seem to reply, that desperate hope suddenly flared up as he walked off. The gray tom could only leer in response.

What was he planning?


	19. 19 - The Kids Aren't Alright (3 of 4)

Brookpaw awoke with a start, his amber eyes frantically flittering around the apprentice's den. He lay back down from his position, panting. It was just the dream about his parents again. The young tom screwed his eyes shut, his heart aching in longing. He missed them dearly.

After his fight with the dark tom, Brookpaw thought he would feel better; his parents had been avenged, right? Yet the night terrors persisted along with the void in his chest. Rowanpaw and Squirrelflight -who only had a vague idea of what was wrong- had been by his side the whole time since then and were his emotional support. The apprentice thought the world of them for that and felt ashamed for not opening up to his mentor. But she wouldn't be able to understand, only Rowanpaw could.

The blue gray tom wanted to see them again, even if it was only to say the farewell he never got to say. Brookpaw had a ray of hope that could perhaps make that desire a reality; the Moonpool - the apparent medium that medicine cats used to communicate with the dead.

He forced himself up and out of his nest, surveying the sleeping forms around him; everyone was sound alseep in their nest, Rowanpaw snoring loudly and occasionally mumbling something, the only nest that was empty was Hazelpaw's. Brookpaw would have to be careful of the gray-and-white she-cat.

The tom stalked out of the apprentice's den, moving for the dirtplace tunnel. He shivered in disgust, it was unsanitary but it was the only way he would be getting to the Moonpool without being questioned by the cat on guard duty. Brookpaw was thankful ThunderClan cleaned up after themselves, too.

Just as he went to enter, Hazelpaw emerged from the tunnel. The she-cat surprised him, sending Brookpaw stumbling back a few pawsteps. "Oh, Brookpaw! Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." the apprentice apologised.

The blue gray tom replied, "no, it's okay. I was just gonna make dirt; nature calls, y'know?"

Hazelpaw's eyes suddenly flashed with concern, "are you alright?"

Brookpaw's stomach clenched, "of course, why wouldn't I be?" he responded, giving a fake smile.

"You look really worn out."

"I'm fine, I promise."

The she-cat frowned, not even attempting to mask her doubt. "There's clearly been something bothering you for the past few moons, Brookpaw; you keep waking up at night and I haven't forgotten how ran out of camp. You can talk to us, you know - you're part of ThunderClan, too."

The tom had to avoid her gaze, initially unable to respond. ThunderClan must have realised something was wrong with Brookpaw while he acted like his suffering was undetected. Still, he didn't want to burden others with his issues, but perhaps Hazelpaw was right. He sighed, lowly responding, "I'm going to the Moonpool."

Hazelpaw's eyes were as round as moons, "the Moonpool? Why? Only medicine cats can go there."

"Because-" Brookpaw's body was wracked by a wave of grief, "because I want to see my parents again." he tearfully responded. The tom looked towards the ground, unable to look up at the she-cat.

"Oh, StarClan. Brookpaw, I'm so sorry to hear that," the gray-and-white cat soothed. Gently, she placed the tip of her tail under his chin and brought him to eye level with her. "but I don't think you can move on like this. I don't think your parents would want you to be so upset like this - you have to let go."

Brookpaw couldn't find fault in her argument, but a desperate hope made him stubbornly hold onto his plan. "I _need_ to see them again, Hazelpaw! I-I just have to say goodbye to them, I never got to do that!" he pleaded.

"I don't know how exactly you lost your parents, Brookpaw. But it's not healthy to hold onto your grief like this. Please; you have to let go of it," Hazelpaw insisted, her tone was soft. She brushed her muzzle against his own, "I. . .I'd be devastated if I lost Daisy or Berrypaw and Mousepaw, or you. But I know you would all want to me to keep on living."

Brookpaw stood frozen as they brushed muzzles. He could feel his eyes growing misty, touched by how much Hazelpaw cared for him. The tom sighed, "I need to do this, Hazelpaw. I need closure."

Defeat and sadness glittered in Hazelpaw's green eyes, but she slowly nodded her head. "Okay, but I'm coming with you." the she-cat declared.

The blue gray cat made no objections, only flicking his tail and beckoning her as he entered the dirtplace tunnel. They walked along in silence. "What were your parents like?" Hazelpaw asked once they were far enough from camp.

"My dad was really strict, we argued all the time; I can't imagine why," Brookpaw answered, a fondness ringing out in his voice. "He always wanted me to be the best at everything, like he'd be ticked off with me getting a B in a test instead of an A."

"What's a B?" Hazelpaw inquired, listening intently.

The apprentice explained, "where I come from, we've got assessments kinda like ThunderClan's but they're more about how smart you are rather that how good of a fighter you are, you get what I'm saying?"

"Yeah. So, is a B bad?"

"Nah, a B's still good, just not the best."

"It sounds like he really expected a lot from you."

"It's just how he was raised."

Hazelpaw nodded in understanding, "what about your mother?" she asked.

"Mom?" Brookpaw repeated, "mom was more laidback than dad; she wanted the best for me, but she got that I just wanted to have fun. I never wanted to stress over tests - I just wanted to hang out with my friends and do stuff." a feeling of longing nearly overwhelmed him.

"Daisy used to fuss over us when me and my brothers were kits too." she purred.

"Pretty sure she still does when she doesn't have a mountain of kittens to deal with." the tom smirked.

"She's valuable to ThunderClan, though. Ferncloud is too."

"I wasn't throwin' any shade there, don't worry." Brookpaw reassured. He could appreciate what Daisy and Ferncloud done for ThunderClan, it was thanks to them that many other she-cats could continue with their warrior duties. Plus, they were both sweethearts. But Brookpaw still felt awkward around the dappled she-cat for accidentally hurting Icekit. "Y'know, I still feel really bad about hurting Icekit." he admitted.

"It's alright, you just had a lot to deal with." Hazelpaw reminded him.

"I guess." he responded, but the tom didn't feel like that excused him.

The rest of the way was met with silence. Brookpaw's mind was filled with pleasant memories of his family; how proud his father was when he got the highest grade in his Geography class, meeting his cousin and reading _My Hero Academia_ the full day with him, how his mother gave him the encouragement he needed to ride his bike for the first time without stabilisers...

The list went on and on, only serving to intensify the storm of longing in Brookpaw's heart. He had to see his parents again, just once more. The tom let out a light sob, grabbing the attention of Hazelpaw. He could feel her eyes on him, probably full of worry.

Brookpaw felt touched; she was so supportive. He was so lucky to have her as a friend, along with Rowanpaw and Squirrelflight. He owed them a lot, especially Rowanpaw. The dark ginger tabby had done so much for him, Brookpaw would probably be dead in the mountains if it weren't for him.

They had followed the stream, leading them to their destination; the Moonpool. Brookpaw was in awe, it was so beautiful! The water was tranquil and peaceful, completely still. The light from stars seemed to bounce off of the surface, almost like it was a reflection of deep space.

His heart was thundering away in his chest, it's sound filled his ears. Brookpaw felt nearly overwhelmed by the whirling typhoon of emotions in him, making him shake. So close - he was so close. The tom's parents were within his reach now. He turned around, looking towards Hazelpaw.

The gray-and-white she-cat was frowning, shivering ever so slightly. Hazelpaw clearly didn't approve of his actions, yet she accompanied him. He couldn't begin to express his gratitude to her for being his hand to hold through this - or paw, rather. "Are you sure about this, Brookpaw?" she meowed, reluctance ringing in her voice.

"I need closure, Hazelpaw." Brookpaw responded, finding it hard to form words now.

The she-cat approached him, nuzzling under his chin. "Okay then, but please be careful." the apprentice warned him.

Brookpaw rested his head on top of her's, "thank you, Hazelpaw. You're such a sweetheart."

Hazelpaw gave a low purr in response, moving away from him. The tom gave her one last smile before bending down and lapping at the Moonpool's surface. It was the most pleasantly cool water he had ever tasted. Suddenly, he felt a sudden wave of fatigue wash over him. Brookpaw lay down, his eyelids falling shut.

He knew he was asleep, yet he was still conscious. Brookpaw felt as if he was falling before a sudden jolt struck him. The blue gray cat's eyes suddenly snapped open. He stared, wide-eyed at his surroundings.

"Oh. My. God." Brookpaw whispered, full of wonder.

The forest around him was sparkling, like everything was made entirely of stardust. The trees around him were the healthiest ones he had ever seen, as were the bushes and any other fauna. Above him was a beautiful night sky, the Milky Way staring down at him like the eye of a deity. "This. . .this is amazing!" Brookpaw laughed to himself.

Was this heaven? Was this StarClan? Brookpaw didn't have a clue, but it wasn't going to stop him from finding his parents.

"Yes, that's usually everyone's reaction when they come here for the first time," a voice behind him croaked. Surprised, Brookpaw turned around to find an old cat. She was a big, dark gray cat covered in scars. Her eyes were orange, they sent a shiver up the tom's spine at the thought of another cat with orange eyes. The she-cat must have been a Persian, he could tell by her flat, broad face. "But you, you shouldn't be here." she leered.

"Who are you?" Brookpaw asked.

The she-cat gave an annoyed snort, "Yellowfang. You're Brookpaw; someone who shouldn't be here," Yellowfang hissed, her pelt fluffing up in hostility. "Now, get out. You're not welcome here."

"Hey, I'm not leaving until-"

"-this is _StarClan_ , you twoleg mousebrain! What would your parents be here for?"

The apprentice stammered, "w-well it was worth a shot!" he could feel tears welling in his eyes. His parents weren't here, it was stupid of him to hold on to the false hope that he would get to see them again.

The StarClan cat gave an impatient sigh, "sweet StarClan's kits," she mumbled, "don't start crying, you. Are all twolegs this emotional?"

Brookpaw realised something, "wait. How'd you know I'm human - or was human."

"What, did you think you became a cat for no reason whatsoever?" Yellowfang responded.

"You brought me and Rowanpaw here?!" the blue gray tom gasped.

The she-cat gave a bewildered, contemptuous laugh; "do you think I would _ever_ bring a twoleg to the lake? You must be more mousebrained than I thought! I've seen what normal twolegs can do, never mind you lot! I would have rather brought back Tigerstar than being one of you here; all your kind brings is destruction and death."

Brookpaw felt a sudden spike of anger. He knew who Tigerstar was; that comment stung a little. "Rowanpaw and me aren't like that! and what do you mean 'you lot?'" he spat.

"I'm sure there's quite a few cats in your Clan who would beg to differ, twoleg." Yellowfang retorted.

The tom gave an irritated sigh. This was going nowhere and he didn't particularly feel like arguing with some cranky hag. "If you hate us so much, why are we cats then?" he questioned.

The apprentice had been expecting a sarcastic quip or biting remark from the grizzled cat, but instead her expression turned serious. "Because we have to fight fire with fire. Otherwise; the Clans are doomed."

His amber eyes widened, "what?"

"Before you came here, there were five other twolegs who had been brought to the Clans. All of them were brought by Tigerstar, who planned to use them as his hounds for his plans. It was quite the surprise, actually." Yellowfang explained.

"You mean Sparkclaw?" Brookpaw responded. His curiosity was piqued, who were the other four metas? Maybe that Smokefoot character was, he remembered that he was really friendly with Rowanpaw's younger brother when he brought Jaypaw back from his little expedition in the lake.

She nodded, "he failed, but Tigerstar's a stubborn foxheart. Now he's got four new lackeys who are all loyal to him and _much_ more deadly than the one dog he used to have following him." her voice was grim.

Brookpaw gulped. Both himself and Rowanpaw had been begrudgingly chosen by StarClan to defend the Clans, while it seemed the previous defenders had been abandoned by them.

A sense of foreboding was thick in the air, where did he and Rowanpaw fit in to this? Why was he being told this? "Umm. . .b-but what about those three other metas?" he inquired, his stomach tightening.

"two of them left the Clans, and not one of them are as mentally fit as they used to be," Yellowfang meowed sombrely. "You two are what's stopping them from taking over, do you understand? You _must_ defeat them!" her orange eyes were fierce now.

"Geez. . .no pressure or anything." Brookpaw mumbled.

"No pressure?" the she-cat echoed, "if you fail, there won't be any more Clans. I'm not going to beat around the bush with something like this."

It felt as if a sudden weight had been thrown onto the tom's back. _Oh God,_ he shuddered. "You make it sound like it was a surprise that we ended up here, but doesn't StarClan give prophecies out like free candy?" he pressed. Surely, they knew it was going to happen and hopefully knew the outcome.

Yellowfang's shoulders stiffened, "because there was no prophecy. Not for them; not for you. None of this should be happening."

Her ominous words sent a fearful chill down Brookpaw's spine, but before he could respond he could feel the tug of the waking world. He suddenly developed tunnel vision, feeling blackness pressing against his consciousness. The hunting grounds of StarClan had faded away.

They had been replaced by the furious eyes of Leafpool.


	20. 20 - The Kids Aren't Alright (4 of 4)

Brookpaw, with a stoic expression, met the gazes of Firestar, Squirrelflight, Dustpelt, and Leafpool. The medicine cat was absolutely furious, pacing up and down with fur bristling. The tom hadn't seen such anger since his dad found out he was failing english. Squirrelflight has a sharp look of disappointment in her eyes. Dustpelt, Hazelpaw's mentor, was also furious as well as ashamed of his own apprentice. The blue gray tom had pressed himself against the gray-and-white she-cat to comfort her. Firestar's expression was a mix of the other three cats' own.

"What were you thinking?!" Leafpool fiercely demanded, "the Moonpool is only to be accessed by medicine cats and leaders _only_ , not apprentices!"

Neither of them responded. A hollow sense of defeat prevented Brookpaw from talking, not shame or fear. He didn't get the closure he desperately needed, only a spectre telling him what he already knew; Brookpaw had to protect his new home from the four psychos who had killed him before. Though there was new information, it wasn't something he exactly had time to ponder.

Dustpelt gave an impatient hiss, "explain yourself, Hazelpaw!"

Brookpaw finally responded, "hey, cut her some slack. She tried to talk me out of going to the Moonpool."

"Hazelpaw should have told someone about what you were doing, not tag along." Firestar pointed out. While he sounded calm and level-headed, the ginger tom's rage was seeping into his words.

Squirrelpaw chimed in, "well, what were you even going to the Moonpool _for?_ "

While he had the furious, smouldering gazes of four the most respected cats in ThunderClan Brookpaw didn't shiver. In this moment of time, he couldn't care less about what they thought of him or what punishment they had in mind for him. The only worry on his mind was Hazelpaw. The blue gray tom finally answered, "I. . .I'd rather tell you in private, Squirrelflight."

The ginger she-cat's eyes widened a little, surprise and concern quickly appearing then disappearing. But before she could oblige and lead her apprentice outside, her former mentor stopped her with his tail. "Hold on, you're going to tell us all why." leered Dustpelt.

"It's a private thing, sir," Brookpaw reiterated, "I'm not comfortable with telling everyone here about it." his voice wasn't fierce, like he thought it should have been. Couldn't the dark tabby see that it was a deeply personal reason? But the tom's voice was low and hoarse.

Squirrelflight gave Dustpelt a sharp glance before exiting the leader's den with her apprentice in tow. The hollow was dark, the now-setting moon giving only the faintest of light, but the two cats were still able to make it safely down from Highledge.

She turned to face him, "so, why did you go to the moon pool?"

Brookpaw swallowed the lump in his throat, "I wanted to see my parents again." he confessed.

"Oh. StarClan, Brookpaw. I'm sorry to hear that," Squirrelflight gave him a soothing lick between the ears, "is that why you were so upset a few moons ago?" she asked gently.

The tom could only nod, praying that she wouldn't ask him more. It hurt to remember what happened to them, the memories forcing their way to the forefront of his mind. Opening his front door only to find his home was charred, soot and ash was everywhere. Everything was eerily quiet, anxiously he walked into his living room. He hoped that his parents were okay.

That's where he found his parents, their glazed over eyes peering into nothingness. Their faces twisted in pain and shock. Blood leaked from the corner of their eyes, their mouths, and their nostrils. It was a horrible moment, one that would forever haunt him. But the nightmare didn't end there:

"Did you know your dad's responsible for getting three people fired just to climb the corporate ladder, and that your mom left her boyfriend to be with your dad? Poor guy never understood why."

He turned around to see him, the man with anisocoria along with the scarred man. Staring into his cold eyes was like being in a tundra; he thought he would freeze to death. "They deserved it." The man scorned.

Before he could react, the man flicked his wrist and the motion seemingly sent Brookpaw flying out of a window hurtling to the streets below. Even now he could feel his blood running cold at the thought of that monster. He had taken everything everything he ever loved away.

Brookpaw shuddered. He refused to believe what that bastard said about his parents; Jirou and Akio Johjima were good people, damn it. Squirrelflight frowned with worry, "it must have been hard losing your parents, but going to the Moonpool wouldn't bring them back."

He could only nod in agreement. The blue gray tom finally spoke up, "I'm sorry about what I did, I just wanted closure because I never got to say goodbye to them."

Again, she gave him a soothing lick. "But you shouldn't have gone to the Moonpool - I'm disappointed in you." the warrior reminded, her voice gentle yet firm.

"I know." Brookpaw meowed. He could feel guilt starting to seep out of him now, especially for Hazelpaw. _Dustpelt must be going off on her,_ he thought to himself, _that's my fault; I should've just told her to buzz off then she wouldn't be in trouble!_

"Now," Squirrelflight started, the sternness from before returning to her words, "you go get some rest, I'll decide with Firestar and Leafpool what your punishment is."

He nodded in response, "but Hazelpaw didn't do anything, she shouldn't be in trouble. She was making sure I was alright, that's all," the guilt had stopped seeping out and instead began pouring out. The gray-and-white she-cat didn't deserve to be punished, "I'll take both of our punishments if I need too."

The she-cat shook her head, "she should have stayed in camp and told someone, but I'll see if I can make her punishment less severe. No promises though, she's not my apprentice so I can't decide what to do with her."

Brookpaw frowned in dissatisfaction, but forced himself to nod. Then, he headed to the apprentice's den, after being dismissed by Squirrelflight, and curling up in his nest. The tom fell into a dreamless sleep, something he was thankful for.

The next day, Squirrelflight delivered his punishment; he was confined to camp for the next moon, during that time he was to take care for the elders. Squirrelflight also mentioned that his warrior ceremony would be delayed for the time being. Brookpaw gave a defeated, outraged groan inward. Was he close to becoming a warrior and blew his chances?

Brookpaw ducked as he entered the elder's den, carrying a stick in his maw. On the end of the stick was a foul and acidic-smelling ball of moss drenched in mouse-bile. "Hey, it's pest control." he greeted, his words muffled.

An old, small she-cat greeted him with a flick of her tail. "Hello, Brookpaw. I've got a big tick on my shoulder, somewhere I can't reach." Mousefur meowed.

"Must be ticking you off." The apprentice commented, narrowly dodging the elder's swipe.

"I hope you're happy with that awful joke." snorted Mousefur.

Longtail chimed in, "I thought it was okay, actually."

Longtail was a skinny, pale tabby with a nick in his ear. His green eyes were scarred over, Brookpaw heard that he lost his sight in a hunting accident. The young tom felt pangs of sympathy for him, looking down to his own scarred bicep and paw. While how they gained their scars was from completely different circumstances, it still got him thinking; Brookpaw's scars were because of the backlash he experienced using his power at one hundred percent, even then if Rowanpaw didn't have that secondary power of his then he wouldn't even _have_ a foreleg. The thought deeply scared him, he needed to get better control of his powers.

The tom was in deep thought as he tended to Mousefur. Rowanpaw wouldn't be there to heal him forever, even then there wasn't a guarantee that his body would be completely healed. Brookpaw had taken the first steps in controlling his powers; he could control the intensity and use it throughout his entire body. But he could do more with sound, he was sure of it. All he had to do was figure it out.

"Are you done yet?" Mousefur asked impatiently.

"Huh?"

"You've had that moss on me for the past two minutes, I'm going to reek!"

Brookpaw was flustered, "s-sorry!" he swiftly removed the mouse-bile-soaked moss. _Alright, let's get Longtail. Then, I'm gonna think about what I'm gonna do with my powers._ he told himself. Just as he moved to attend to Longtail, Hazelpaw entered the elder's den. She was carrying her own stick with moss at the end.

The tom flicked his tail in greeting. The gray-and-white cat returned the gesture, her eyes alight with warmth. Brookpaw decided that he would talk to her after they had finished their duties, his powers could wait. Once they had both removed the ticks from the elders, they headed out of the den and towards the fresh-kill pile.

"So, how long are you stuck in camp for?" asked Brookpaw.

Hazelpaw answered, "only for a quarter-moon."

The blue gray cat wondered if Squirrelflight had been able to lighten Hazelpaw's punishment, whether she did or not he was thankful it hadn't been as severe as his. "That's alright I guess, you never did anything so it wouldn't be fair if you got my punishment." he meowed.

The gray-and-white she-cat nodded in agreement, "yeah. It was going to be half a moon, but Squirrelflight convinced Dustpelt to make it a quarter-moon."

Brookpaw sighed inwardly with relief, _I gotta thank Squirrelflight._ He picked out a mouse from the fresh-kill pile while Hazelpaw picked out a blackbird. Their pelts brushed for a brief moment, "wow, your pelt's really soft." she commented.

"Oh, thanks." he replied, settling down beside her as he tore into his mouse. Brookpaw finished quickly, as did Hazelpaw.

"Brookpaw, do you want to share tongues?" the she-cat aksed.

But before Brookpaw could answer, Rowanpaw approached them. He had just returned from a patrol, the rest of whom looked halfway between furious and grim. The dark tabby nudged him away from Hazelpaw saying; "sorry Hazelpaw, but I gotta steal your boyfriend for a sec."

The blue gray tom only playfully rolled his eyes, while the gray-and-white she-cat looked confused. "Boyfriend? What's a-" her eyes widened as she realised what Rowanpaw meant. A flustered Hazelpaw tried to respond but her words fell short. Briskly, she walked away with bristling fur.

Rowanpaw frowned, "huh, I wasn't expecting that."

"C'mon man, we've been in the same den as her for months; haven't you realised she's kinda prude?" Brookpaw meowed. He couldn't help but feel disappointed that he couldn't spend more time with Hazelpaw.

"Hey, I'm not hangin' around a bunch of teens all day," The elder apprentice pointed out, "anyways, we've gotta talk."

Brookpaw resonded, "about what?" he was wondering if now was a good time to tell Rowanpaw about what happened when he went to the Moonpool.

The dark ginger tabby looked to his left then his right, "we can't talk here; it's too crowded. We're gonna have to leave camp."

"But I can't leave camp." he protested.

"Huh? Why?"

"Because I broke into the cat Vatican basically. If I leave camp then I'm gonna get hanged."

"Really?"

"The Catican, if you will."

Rowanpaw sucked in air through his teeth, "you just shut the fuck up." he then entered the apprentice's den and Brookpaw followed.

"So, what's up?" asked Brookpaw.

"You remember that Aussie kid?" the tabby inquired, "the one who was part of the group?"

He narrowed his eyes briefly, sorting through his memories of that. Brookpaw nodded, "yeah, but I never got to see his power though."

Rowanpaw nodded, "me neither, but I saw him at the WindClan border. He chased a squirrel over our border and everyone lost their shit."

Brookpaw winced, Clan cats were extremely territorial and probably took it as a sign of aggression. "That was dumb."

"After he killed it he started trying to. . ." the tom thought for a second, "explain himself I guess; he was freaking out and saying something about kleptomania. It got me thinking, though. Those guys are two steps ahead of us and they know we're in ThunderClan. I dunno about you, but I think they've taken their sweet time in trying to kill us again."

The blue gray tom nodded, "yeah, are you saying we should beat em' to the punch?"

Rowanpaw responded, "what I'm saying is we even the playing field. We're gonna find out everything we can from that Aussie kid."

"Do you have a plan?" Brookpaw inquired.

The tom nodded, "yeah, c'mere." they both huddled together, muttering in secret to one another, going into painstaking detail in their plan. Soon, the pieces had fallen into place. It was time to strike back.


	21. 21 - Wall of Glass (1 of 2)

The wind blew through the moor, sending the long grass tussling in the breeze. The brown rabbit suddenly stood rigid, aware that it was in danger. It dashed off. A WindClan apprentice in a patch of tall grass, who had been stalking the rabbit, groaned.

"Aw, bugger." he pouted.

There was no point in hiding now. The tom stood up from his crouch. His frame was skinny, but thanks to being part of WindClan he was also lithe and fit. Had the cat been a human, he would have the build of a runner. The tom's pelt was a pale gray, with a white tuft on his chest. His green eyes were full of disappointment as he watched his would-be prey scamper off.

This was Mintpaw.

The apprentice sighed, flicking his tail in frustration. _Weaselfur's gonna have a bloody stroke,_ he thought to himself. Mintpaw's mentor was prone to rants when his apprentice returned from hunting and had nothing to show for it. But what was he supposed to do once it started running? They were too fast for him. Mintpaw wasn't like Smokefoot or Crowpaw; who both made hunting look as easy as breathing.

Mintpaw may have lost that particular rabbit, but he luckily had another one stashed away. The gray cat decided he had enough hunting for a day and it was time to head for camp. He began looking for where he had buried. The tom soon found what seemed to be the long patch of grass, the one where he hid his prey. Hawks and buzzards soared over the moor, just waiting to snatch away prey left unattended. But as he scented the air, Mintpaw quickly realised that it was covered in Crowpaw's scent.

This was Crowpaw's prey; not his own.

The urge suddenly arose; that gnawing, anxious feeling in his gut. Mintpaw felt stiff, staring at the tall patch of grass. It was like a sultry voice, whispering in his ear; _take it, Pete. Go on, finders keepers._ The tom screwed his eyes shut, turning his back to the tall grass like it had offended him gravely.

 _Don't you dare, don't you fuckin'_ _dare!_ Mintpaw mentally bellowed. He wouldn't let his kleptomania win again, the last time he did it turned a border squabble with ThunderClan into a fight. But his fellow apprentice shouldn't have left his kill unattended, anyone could just take it. If Mintpaw was to claim it, surely it would teach him a lesson. Slowly and surely, he turned back towards the patch of grass and took a tentative step forward.

 _You whacker, you did the same thing!_ he reminded himself.

"What are you doing?" Crowpaw's voice rang out. Mintpaw turned to face him, meeting his perplexed amber eyes.

"Um. . .nothing." Mintpaw replied, his expression blank. Relief swept over him now that someone was with him, but at the same time he felt awkward under the younger cat's judging gaze.

Crowpaw was as aloof as he was despotic. Since he was apprenticed, the tom seemed to think he was in charge of all the apprentices; probably because his father, Smokefoot, was a respected warrior. While Crowpaw's proud nature may be annoying to some, what annoyed Mintpaw was that the younger tom was a head taller than him.

The smokey-gray cat gave a grunt, pulling out a large rabbit from the tall grass. "Hey, I've got some prey to pick up, wanna come with?" asked Mintpaw.

Crowpaw leered. Like many cats in WindClan, he didn't trust the pale gray tom. Mintpaw could only blame himself and his compulsive need to steal things, despite their lack of value to him. What value did a ball of moss have to him? None. But it satisfied his urges while leaving him in a state of self-hatred.

 _He probably thinks I flogged it, he definitely knows I tried to flog his._ Mintpaw thought to himself. "I caught it myself." the tom added, hoping that would lessen Crowpaw's suspicion. However, Crowpaw continued to leer with suspicion. "I did!" persisted Mintpaw.

"I believe you," Crowpaw responded, turning away from his fellow apprentice. The pale gray tom knew that wasn't true. He frowned, he really had caught it himself. "Where did you put your rabbit?" the younger apprentice asked.

Mintpaw pointed northeast, "somewhere nearby in that direction." he answered.

Crowpaw curled his upper lip. "Oh, towards the ThunderClan border? I've been scenting two warriors from ThunderClan on _our_ territory." he said haughtily.

The pale gray tom had as well when he had been taking his nightly walks, though he hadn't thought much of it because it was so near the border. Surely, it was just some cats whose prey had crossed over the border and they chased it over. If that was the case, then ThunderClan was full of hypocrites. It seemed like those two cats had been getting bolder, whoever they were. "Are you going to tell Ashfoot?" he asked.

The smokey-gray cat whipped around, "of course I am! They're on our territory - and they would stay on their own territory if _you_ hadn't kept chasing that squirrel!"

Mintpaw jumped back, "alright, don't get cut snake with me!" he felt guilt pang in his heart because he knew that Crowpaw was right, it was retaliation for his blunder. Guilt soon turned to anger directed at himself; none of this would happen if he didn't have kleptomania. All it ever did was distance others from him and land himself in hot water, time and time again.

Crowpaw huffed, "whatever. Go get your rabbit, rosbif." as they walked in awkward silence, the tom muttered under his breath; "what does 'cut snake' even mean?"

That night, Mintpaw went on his nightly walk. Casually, he strolled through the moorlands preoccupied by his thoughts. He wondered, who were those two warriors on WindClan territory? He remembered how Alex - or Thornpaw now - had informed him and Silverpaw that those two guys he killed were now among the Clans.

That monster, Sootpaw, had been sent to finish them but ultimately failed; it had almost cost him his own life. Mintpaw shivered, he could remember training with Weaselfur only to hear a massive, echoing 'boom' followed by plumes of ash being flung into the sky. His heart sank when he witnessed that.

Not because Sootpaw was most likely dead - that monster deserved anything that came his way, but because one who couldn't control his powers had now reigned them in.

Were those two cats coming for him? They couldn't be, they didn't know he was part of WindClan. Plus he hadn't killed them, he didn't even want to! While Alex, Lethabo, and Ella were moving in for the kill Peter had faultered. Would those two, Allen and Jordan, come to kill him? But if he explained that he never wanted to kill them then they would leave him alone, right?

His mind was racing with questions. _You'll be fine. You've got heaps of power, don't you?_ Mintpaw reminded himself. It calmed him down and made him feel more confident in himself. The tom was extremely versatile with his powers, he was more than capable of defending himself. With a sigh, he looked up to the moon.

Was Mintpaw doing the right thing?

He had aligned himself with Alex because he had wrecked his life with thievery. It initially started as only food and drink, things that was necessary to survival. He did it because that's what he needed to do to get by. Then it all went downhill when it turned from stealing because it was necessary to an impulsive urge - Mintpaw wanted a second chance. He wanted to go somewhere he didn't have to steal anymore.

The tom didn't think murder would be involved in getting what he wanted, but had kept quiet about it. This was the only thing he didn't resist his greedy soul on. He needed this second chance.

Mintpaw suddenly heard a sound, whipping around to face it. But there was nothing, even as he scanned the terrain. There wasn't a scent in the air, either. He lowered his guard, "must've been the wind." he murmured to himself.

Again, he heard the sound and he turned to find the source of the noise but found nothing. "What the bloody hell is that?" he muttered to himself, leering. Mintpaw called out, "is anyone there?"

From behind him, there was a reddish-pink glow. He had come for him. With wide eyes, he turned around to hopefully counteract what was coming. But Mintpaw was slow, the streak of neon light suddenly began circling him. The light was blinding, forcing him to screw his eyes shut.

Mintpaw cursed, going to activate his powers. But his balance was off and he crashed into the ground with a grunt. The neon light suddenly dimmed. When the tom opened his eyes, he found that he was bound by neon light.

Rings of pink-red light was wrapped around his body, which were thick around his paws and chest. It was a bright, makeshift coffin. Mintpaw couldn't move, feeling the heat from the binds.

There was a dark ginger tom looming over him. Behind him was a tall blue-gray cat, glaring at him. The tom kept him pinned, holding a free paw enveloped in neon close to Mintpaw's face. He tried to move away from it the best he could.

"If you wanna leave here with your face still on, then you're gonna tell me everything you and your entourage got planned. Got that?" he snarled.

 _Oh, bloody hell._ Mintpaw grimaced.


	22. 22 - Wall of Glass (2 of 2)

Mintpaw had several different thoughts racing through his mind at breakneck speeds; Since when was Allen capable of binding someone with neon? How strong was Jordan now? How much control over his powers did he have now? Those were only a few.

The pale gray tom tried to put as much distance as he could between his face and the neon-covered paw. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place. If he told these two anything, then he would undoubtedly be killed for it; if he said nothing then half of his face would be melted off. Mintpaw's heart was thundering against his rib cage. He had to think.

"Listen, I don't know much about what's going on but I'll tell you what I know." Mintpaw responded as calmly as he could.

"Start talking." the dark ginger tabby commanded.

The pale gray tom stiffened, searching for something to say and stall the cat pinning him. "As soon as you get your paw moved." Mintpaw responded.

Allen's eyes widened, "oh, my bad!" he apologised, "it's not close enough to your face." he moved it closer, completely disintegrating the whiskers on Mintpaw's muzzle.

Panic flooded through him. "Alright! Alright!" cried Mintpaw. As Allen moved his paw away, he breathed a sigh of relief. "Okay, a-all of them are in ShadowClan." he lied.

"All of them?" the ThunderClan apprentice echoed.

"All of them." Mintpaw repeated. It was a blatant lie, but Allen wasn't aware of that. While he hated Lethabo, the awful person he was, and Alex was as frigid as they came; Ella wasn't. To the pale gray tom, she was lonely. That loneliness was what bounded them together, finding a connection in mutual suffering. He couldn't sell her out.

"I want to the ins and outs of their powers - your own, too."

The WindClan cat nodded, "A-Alex is psychokinetic and can read minds."

Allen nodded in understanding, "any downsides?"

"I-I don't know; we all keep that kind of thing to ourselves," he responded truthfully, "Lethabo did though. If he used his powers for too long he burns himself." the tom could feel his paw 'stiffening', the sensation creeping up his leg.

"That explains why he was covered in burn scars." Jordan chimed in.

"What about the girl's?" prompted Allen.

Mintpaw swallowed the lump in his throat. He could feel the sensation of 'stiffness' spreading over him, but he needed more time. "Her power's acid." he, again, lied.

"Bullshit," the dark ginger tabby hissed, "I've fought her before; her power's mercury." he held his paw closer to Mintpaw's face.

"I didn't know! She never used it around me!" The WindClan apprentice gave another falsehood. He refused to give anything about Ella away and betray her. The tom could see that Allen was growing impatient. "L-look, I don't know what makes her powers tick. But I'll tell you about my powers." Mintpaw mewed, again hoping to put as much distance between the paw and his face.

The feeling had completely enveloped him now. _This is my chance!_ he thought. Wordlessly, he struggled against his neon bonds. Their main method of keeping someone captive seemed to be heat rather than durability, judging by how easily they broke when Mintpaw's body pushed against them. Before they broke, streaks of neon light suddenly shot off in random directions as if the He was a living disco ball.

Neither of the ThunderClan cats seemed to have expected that. Taking advantage of the situation, Mintpaw landed a solid blow on Allen's jaw. A crack sounded out, though it wasn't the tabby's jaw. Rather, it was coming from Mintpaw.

Jordan leaped into action as his partner was sent sprawling. The pale gray tom froze for a moment and going pale, remembering what the blue-gray tom was now capable of. He had no time to react. Jordan was a blur before he crashed into him. As they collided, the sound of glass shattering filled the air along with green shards of glass.

Mintpaw went flying backwards, the glass that had been covering his skin falling off and leaving a trail as he went. It seemed to just fall off of him, as if materialising from thin air. Suddenly, massive glass shards, green and crystal-like, erupted from the ground. The pale gray cat smacked against them, grunting.

"Oh, fuck me." he panted, falling to the ground. That hurt, both crashing into the glass and Jordan's attack. Yet Mintpaw was greatly relieved at the same time as his glass skin had saved him from serious injuries. What remained of that invisible, pseudo-armour suddenly became visible in a brief flash of white light.

The green, crystalline glass fell off of his body like a lizard shedding its skin. With his power of glass, Mintpaw was capable of bending light. Though he could control his opacity with it; if Allen had looked closely he would have realised that the grass beneath him could be seen. Guilt plucked at his heart, grimly remembering what he used his abilities for.

The pale gray cat hated himself for it, remembering what people had said to him if he got caught;

 _"Fuck off back to your deadbeat alchie parents, dip. Jesus, every one of you is scum"_

 _"Nobody's gonna hire the cunt whose been jailed, what? Seven times?"_

 _"You're going nowhere in life and you've got nothing, you know that don't you?"_

They were all right.

 **...**

A distance away, Brookpaw gritted his teeth. His paw had several shards of glass embedded in it, cuts from shards that had went flying covered his left foreleg, shoulder, neck and cheek. More shards had also embedded themselves in those places. He gave a hiss of pain.

Rowanpaw, his jaw bleeding slightly form a scratch, cautiously approached his companion. "You alright? Some of those look pretty deep." he frowned.

The blue-gray tom winced, "I'm fine, but that wasn't the smartest idea." he tried to remove some of the glass in his paw using his teeth. Recently he had been trying to gauge how much power he was using, that must have been thirteen percent of his full power resonating in him. Thanks to his warrior training, it seemed that he could safely handle more power without hurting himself.

Just as the apprentice finished removing the last shard of glass from his paw, Rowanpaw pulled him towards him with his scruff. With a flash of neon light, they were both standing several meters away. Where they had been standing was a line of glass pillars.

That was close.

"Since when could you move people with you?" Brookpaw breathlessly asked, "a-and the binding thing, too?"

"Always, at least for the running thing," Rowanpaw replied simply. He then crouched low, as if he was getting ready to run, " now you sit tight while I deal with this sonva bitch." he growled. The tom then raced forward in a streak of neon.

For a brief moment, he felt like he had made the wrong decision not allowing his companion to accompany him. But a gnawing in his gut told Rowanpaw that he had to do this himself, he couldn't solely rely on Brookpaw. Plus the dark ginger cat needed to prove himself to himself after the near-defeat at the paws of Sootpaw.

In only a few seconds, Rowanpaw has covered the distance between himself and Mintpaw. He could see the tom's face twist in surprise, opening his mouth to let out a yelp of fear. But something was uncanny about it, like despite his open mouth no sound came out.

Yet Rowanpaw couldn't stop, he was going too fast and was too close. He barrelled into the pale gray cat - he shattered like a glass bottle. The dark ginger tabby was showered in glass shards, slicing open his flesh and embedding themselves as he tumbled to a stop. He gained a particularly nasty cut on his eyebrow. He cursed and spat as he came to a stop.

Rowanpaw, his eyes squinted as he tried to prevent blood from getting in his eyes, looked to where Mintpaw had been standing. There was only glass shards in his place, as if there had been a statue of him there.

"What the hell?"

But everything soon made sense; Mintpaw's power was glass. That explained how Rowanpaw never noticed his powers activating during their interrogation, it was because the glass was bending the light around it. It must be how he constructed a glass clone of himself too.

He suddenly became acutely aware to the idea that Mintpaw could be anywhere and that, even if he was found, it might not even really be him. Suddenly, the tom fired off a bullet of neon. Rowanpaw watched intently as it streaked through the night air, never to be seen again. It was nice to know that there weren't any invisible glass pillars around.

Rowanpaw gave a defeated sigh, they had lost him. He made the trek back to Brookpaw the conventional way; walking. He had exhausted enough of his neon for one day. "Lost him." he grunted bitterly.

"At least we got something, right?" Brookpaw meowed, his tone hopeful, "we know they've got weaknesses."

"For all we know it could be fuckin' kryptonite." the older tom growled, stalking back towards ThunderClan camp.

The blue-gray cat reluctantly followed after him, "w-well, how are we gonna explain the cuts? I-I'm not even supposed to be out of camp."

Rowanpaw tensed for a second. He hadn't thought about the cuts until now, "you rolled into a thorn bush or something in camp, I got caught in the barrier."

" _That's_ the best you can manage?"

"Unless you wanna tell the truth."

Brookpaw sighed, "y'know, I'd like it if we caught a break every once in a while. I just. . .I know we can't go back to how it used to be, I've accepted that. Now, I just wanna make this the best life I can."

Rowanpaw nodded, responding with a low voice, "me too, Jordan. Me too." while he never said it aloud, he had to wonder:

Was that an obtainable goal for them anymore?


	23. 23 - Paranoid (1 of 3)

"What the hell happened to you?!" demanded Sparkclaw.

Rowanpaw and Brookpaw stood frozen stiff, unsure of how to reply or how to react. Both toms were bleeding, covered in cuts. The one above the dark ginger tom's eye was bleeding heavily enough he had to keep his eye closed. Neither of them could believe they had been caught.

The elder brother had his mantra, the one both him and his companion were going to stick to. He had to admit, it was awful as an excuse but it was still plausible. After all; Rowanpaw had known someone who lost her eye falling in a bush. But when he saw the look in his brother's eyes, the dark remembrance in them, he knew it was futile to lie.

"Look, D. We just had a tumble-" Rowanpaw tried his best to calmly explain while the tabby warrior inspected his wounds.

"-Are these fucking glass shards?!" Sparkclaw questioned, glaring up at his older brother. The tom felt a shiver run down his spine when he saw that look in his kin's eyes. He felt his voice catch in his throat. "Who did this?" the warrior asked.

"We were attacked by a-a...WindClan patrol!" Brookpaw replied.

Sparkclaw dismissed him, "do you think I'm brain dead or somethin'? Yeah you've got the scent on you, but where the fuck did WindClan get glass bottles to smash you with, huh? It's obvious - there's another one of us here, isn't there?"

Rowanpaw pondered for a moment if cats could break out into a cold sweat; because he was sure he just did. He couldn't keep the truth from his little brother for any longer. But he had no clue how his brother would react when it was clear he was dealing with some burden. "Y-yes." he confirmed, his voice barely above a whisper.

He saw that look in his brother's eyes again. When he saw it the first time, he wasn't sure what it was supposed to be, but now he knew - it was killing intent. Rowanpaw didn't like that look. It was hypocritical of him to feel such a way when he had been prepared to kill in his first encounter with the man with the mismatched pupils and his group. But he liked to believe he wouldn't kill unless it was necessary. In this situation; it was hardly necessary.

"Is this the same guy who tried to burn the forest down a few moons back?" Sparkclaw demanded.

Brookpaw's features twisted in surprise, "you _knew_ someone did that?"

"Call it a hunch." the ThunderClan warrior replied.

Rowanpaw grimly responded, "that was a different guy. Unfortunately, it was the same one who wiped that South African village off the map a few years ago."

" _That_ sonuva bitch?" Sparkclaw responded, his voice dripping with disgust.

"T-that was him?" Brookpaw shivered.

He nodded in affirmation, "we should talk about this another time, when we're not cut up and bleeding."

The three toms left for ThunderClan camp. All the while, both apprentices remained stiff and tense. Rowanpaw's fabricated explanation was garbage, but it was all he could manage without escalating the tension between ThunderClan and WindClan. That had failed and increased tension seemed to be the consequence for their failure. The dark ginger tom look to Brookpaw, who seemed ashamed and afraid.

"It's not your fault, buddy." Rowanpaw reassured, muttering into the younger cat's ear. It wasn't Brookpaw's plan to go into WindClan territory and try to gather information about their enemy.

The blue-gray cat sighed. "The Clan won't care though. I wasn't supposed to leave camp because I went to the-"

"-you did what anyone would've done, Jordan," the older apprentice pointed out, cutting him off. "If there's was a chance I could've talked to David before I came here, I would've taken it too."

Brookpaw didn't respond, instead he stared at his paws as they entered ThunderClan camp through the thorn tunnel. Graystripe, who was sitting vigil, looked in both surprise and shock once he saw the two apprentices. "What happened to you two? Did WindClan do this?" he snarled.

"You're damn right they did!" Sparkclaw confirmed.

Rowanpaw felt a spark of disgust and anger run through him. He remembered when Jaypaw fell in the lake and was returned by a WindClan cat named Smokefoot. His brother and him seemed really friendly, and he just threw him under the bus? The dark ginger cat couldn't believe what he was hearing. With a side glance, he saw that Brookpaw didn't agree with Sparkclaw's decision either.

"Those foxhearts." the gray cat grunted.

The tabby warrior responded, "I'll tell Firestar in the morning, right now I'm going to take these two to Leafpool."

"You wanna tell me what that was all about?" hissed Rowanpaw in a low voice, "are you trying to start a war between us and WindClan?"

"I'm only looking out for you, alright? Not much else I can do." Sparkclaw defended.

Rowanpaw replied through gritted teeth, "you're throwing a lotta cats who've got nothing to do with this under the bus, David. Why didn't you let us talk?"

The tabby glared, "I'm looking out for my family, Al. Get off my back."

"By starting a fuckin' _war?_ How's that gonna keep anyone safe? Isn't Smokefoot your buddy, or are you just two-faced?"

Both toms suddenly stood, bristling and rigid. Brookpaw took a weary step backwards. The tension in the air was palpable. "He'd pick family over me too. Next time, don't come back covered in WindClan scent, prick." snapped Sparkclaw, storming off for the warriors den.

Rowanpaw growled, taking a step towards his brother but he was stopped by Brookpaw. "Hey, deal with it in the morning. You need to see Leafpool right now." the young cat said softly. With a snort of contempt, Rowanpaw followed him into the medicine-cat den.

Leafpool and Jaypaw, who had been sleeping in their nests, had been awoken by the sound of the two cats entering the medicine cat. Once the tabby she-cat set eyes on Brookpaw her expression became furious, she opened her mouth to give him the scolding of a lifetime until she was cut off.

"-I forced him to leave camp, if you're gonna nag at anybody here then it'll be me." Rowanpaw growled. He was challenging her, daring her to argue with him.

Leafpool responded just as fiercely; "you're both at fault. Now sit in a nest while I tend to your wounds."

Both apprentices did as instructed, laying down in two separate nests. The dark ginger tabby grimaced as the pulp applied by Jaypaw stung his wounds. While Leafpool tended to Brookpaw, she tested her apprentice's knowledge of herbs:

"What else might we use for these wounds?"

"Comfrey root to ease pain and we could use either chervil or horsetail if they're infected."

"Are they?"

"I can't smell any signs of infection from Rowanpaw's."

"What could we use for rubbing off the poultice after we're done?"

"Catchweed burrs."

"And if they're sore afterwards?"

"We give them poppy seeds, obviously."

Even while Rowanpaw was seething, he still felt a swelling pride for his nephew. Despite having such a difficult duty, one that would rely mostly on sight for judgement no less, Jaypaw was excelling in this field. He wondered for a moment if he should murmur 'well done' into his ear, but decided not to embarrass the gray tabby.

Leafpool squinted curiously at a wound on Brookpaw's neck. Gently, she gripped her teeth around something and gave it a weak pull. The blue-gray tom gritted his teeth, "hey!" he yelped.

"Sorry, Brookpaw," the tabby she-cat softly replied, "there's something stuck in your wound, but I have no idea what it is." she murmured.

Rowanpaw couldn't help but admire how, despite her obvious anger towards the young apprentice for his actions a few days ago - which were akin to stepping on the toes of God - she was able to show him the same kindness as any other patient. He watched as Leafpool, ever so gently, eased a shard of bloodied glass out from the apprentice's wound. Immediately, she set it down and began to tend to his wound as blood began to well.

Rowanpaw began formulating an explanation as to why a glass shard was stuck in Brookpaw's neck. But he was then hit by a sudden, frightening realisation; the young tom could easily have died from that shard of glass had it been deeper. He could only lower his head. Not only had he failed to gather information about the four metas, but Brookpaw came close to death and he hadn't even realised.

He cursed as Jaypaw unexpectedly pulled out a glass shard from the dark tabby's own wound. The medicine-cat apprentice spat it out, "I found one of them in Rowanpaw too." he meowed.

Rowanpaw sharply inhaled, "Ow! Jaypaw, you lil' bastard."

"Quit whining like a kit. You're training to be a warrior, right? Then you're going to get a lot worse than some thorny thing in you." Jaypaw scoffed.

His uncle just growled indignantly in response.

After fully tending to Brookpaw's wound, Leafpool began examining the glass shard. "I've never seen anything like this before. Is it twoleg rubbish?"

"I don't think so," her apprentice disagreed, "unless WindClan warriors have started throwing them at their enemies. If that's the case, then we might as well accept them as our new overlords." he added dryly.

Leafpool rolled her eyes at Jaypaw's quip.

"Oh, that?" meowed the younger apprentice, "that's. . .quartz."

"Quartz?" echoed the tabby she-cat.

"And just what in StarClan's name is quartz?" Jaypaw responded.

"...y'know, it's rocks."

Leafpool looked unconvinced, eyeing the glass shards on the den's floor.

"They're only found underground though. We got chased by the WindClan patrol in to a ditch and we landed in some." Brookpaw insisted.

Leafpool seemed to buy the excuse, nodding her head in understanding and quietly muttering 'oh.' though Jaypaw didn't. He leered at the blue-gray apprentice, as if scrutinising him. After a few heartbeats, his blind eyes opened wide with shock. Rowanpaw had momentarily forgotten his nephew's capabilities - there was no secrets to be hidden around Jaypaw.

"Jaypaw." his uncle responded, his tone said everything that needed to be. The gray tabby understood, nodding his head and continuing his work.

Rowanpaw's heart sank as the young cat shivered, yet he tried to pretend he was perfectly fine. It must be absolutely terrifying for him 'seeing' such power. Jaypaw would have most likely never known what a meta was if it wasn't for himself and Sparkclaw. He probably would have gone the rest of his life believing StarClan had gifted him his powers. He vowed that, from then on, that he wouldn't keep his nephew in the dark anymore.

Jaypaw deserved to know everything that was happening. But at the same time, he was frightened about what Jaypaw would find out if he went poking around his mind. How would he react if he learned that his father and uncle were never born cats? Would he think nothing of it, shrug his shoulders and get on with life? Of course not! Paranoia began building in Rowanpaw along with a sense of vulnerability - was his mind really his own if others could look into it? Hopefully, telling Jaypaw what he needed to know would deter him from peering into his head.

Sparkclaw also deserved to know - and he deserved an apology too. Now that he was calmer, Rowanpaw could see that Sparkclaw was backed into a corner. They were covered in WindClan scent, what else could he do but blame them? Even if a single warrior was blamed, the entire Clan would still be held responsible.

The dark ginger tabby sighed, resting his head against his paws. Today had been a mess to say the least, with a partly unsuccessful interrogation and a more tense relationship between ThunderClan and WindClan.

 _I fucked everything up_ , was all Rowanpaw could sullenly think to himself.


	24. 24 - Paranoid (2 of 3)

Stoically, both Rowanpaw and Brookpaw stared straight ahead. Half of the dark ginger tabby's face and head was wrapped in cobwebs and as was most of the blue-gray cat's leg. They laid in their separate nests in the medicine-cat den, Brookpaw didn't dare to look at the angry Firestar, Leafpool, or Squirrelflight.

Rowanpaw has been barely acknowledged by the three cats, their attention solely focused on the blue-gray tom. He couldn't help but feel guilty about it - it was his own idea to leave camp and not Brookpaw's. Though, unlike his friend, he hadn't committed blasphemy mere days ago.

"You were forbidden from leaving camp!" Firestar snarled.

"Wasn't your stunt at the moonpool enough?" added Leafpool.

Brookpaw opened his mouth to respond, but he was cut off instead by Firestar, who snapped "save it. Brookpaw, if you want to continue as a member of this Clan then you will show some respect to the warrior code."

The dark ginger tabby couldn't sit by idly any longer; he got to his paws and tried to keep his outrage at a manageable level. "I made him leave camp, alright? If you're gonna punish anyone then it should be me," Rowanpaw challenged. Part of him wanted to mention that they were also 'attacked' and how Firestar should be focusing on that. Firestar wasn't one to respond to aggression with more aggression, but could even he stand by while his Clanmates were being assaulted?

Neither of the three cats said a word, only looking at Rowanpaw with surprise. Up until now, the dark tabby hadn't been a cause for trouble. Since the forest fire, all he had done was train with Sparkclaw; socialise with the Clan; and flirt with Whitewing. They turned to Brookpaw, looking for confirmation.

The blue-gray tom nodded after faltering. In turn, Squirrelflight gave Rowanpaw a sharp glare.

Firestar met the ginger tom's gaze, "if that's the case, you're spending a moon confined to camp - and you're going to care for the elders," he then turned to Brookpaw, "and your punishment is extended until you learn to have some respect for the warrior code. Have I made myself clear?"

Rowanpaw ignored the leader's words. "What are you gonna do about WindClan, huh? Can't stand by with your tail between your legs over this." A part of him felt disgusted with himself for doing what he had disapproved of Sparkclaw doing last night. But what could he do when the Clan thoroughly believed both himself and Brookpaw were attacked?

The ginger tom's eyes flashed with anger for a brief moment before calming down. With a sigh, he responded, "I'll announce what ThunderClan's response will be later on in the day; what WindClan did cannot and will not be ignored, but I also can't ignore the fact you both left camp without permission."

The dark ginger tabby suddenly was hit with a wave of sympathy for Firestar. His position in the Clan as leader forced him to make decisions that could very well have negative consequences for his image. Rowanpaw didn't feel the slightest tinge of envy for him.

It was then decided that Rowanpaw was fit enough to start his punishment and was given a stick with mouse-bile at the end. It stung his eyes, making them water, and his nostrils felt like they were burning. With his face contorted, the apprentice walked into the elders den. He kept quiet, only acknowledging what the elders said with grunts and mumbles.

Once he was done, he exited the elders den. Rowanpaw frowned, sighing to himself. He couldn't help but feel guilty for what he had done over the past few days. He had to apologise to his brother and to Brookpaw when he got the chance. The dark ginger tom also reminded himself to speak to Jaypaw too. _I've really been making an ass of myself recently, haven't I?_ he mused.

It was time to get back on track now. Rowanpaw scanned the camp for any sign of his brother, but he didn't seem to be around. Perhaps Sparkclaw was out hunting. However, he spotted Whitewing. For a moment, his hazel eyes lingered on her form. He wanted to talk to her, let her see that 'WindClan' hadn't beaten him black and blue, and to make himself feel better. Whenever the dark ginger tom talked to Whitewing, whatever was weighing on his mind at the time seemed to melt away.

But Rowanpaw had a brother to apologise to, looking away from the she-cat. Since Sparkclaw was out, he should talk to Jaypaw. His nephew was probably terrified of what he had seen, knowing what his uncle and Brookpaw were capable of. He probably felt so vulnerable too.

"Hiya, Rowanpaw." Whitewing purred, approaching him.

The tom inwardly cursed at himself. She must have caught him staring, "hey, fluffball," he greeted with a slight smile. If his brother was going to take his time, then Rowanpaw could lose himself in conversation until he came back. "How're you doing?"

"I should be the one asking," the she-cat retorted, "how are you feeling?"

Rowanpaw answered with a sigh. "Could be better. Don't let the cobwebs fool you though, my cuts aren't that bad."

There was a flash of anger in Whitewing's eyes. For a moment, he thought that that anger was directed towards him, leaving him confused. A split-second later Rowanpaw realised that it was directed to WindClan for 'attacking' him. He resented that he couldn't tell her the truth. "Something wrong?" he asked.

Whitewing quickly replied, "Nothing, it's nothing," she dismissed, "want to sit together?"

He wouldn't mind that, yet he had to keep an eye out for his younger brother or his nephew. If he was going to sit with the white she-cat, then he would only be half-listening. _I'll at least pass the time while I wait for D,_ Rowanpaw reminded himself. "Sure." the tom responded with a smile.

They two cats sat down along the face of the quarry wall, resting in the shade. Rowanpaw had suggested it simply so he could have an easier time spotting either Sparkclaw or Jaypaw.

"I saw Firestar and Squirrelflight walk into the medicine-cat den earlier, did they say anything to you?" Whitewing asked, her green eyes shining with curiosity.

He responded, "Nothing much, just chewing us out for leaving camp without permission."

The she-cat's pelt suddenly bristled with outrage. "But you were attacked! They should've asked you what happened!"

Rowanpaw was taken aback by the warrior's outburst. Whitewing was usually calm and laidback, never getting flustered or upset under normal circumstances. What was up with her today? "Fluffball, you okay?" he asked, concerned.

"Why wouldn't I be?" she responded, flattening her fur down.

"'Cause you're acting like you woke up on the wrong side of the nest."

Whitewing sighed, "it's just. . .why would any cat want to hurt you?"

The tom raised an eyebrow, pleasantly surprised by the compliment. He smiled, "aw, you mean that?"

"Of course I do," she purred, nuzzling Rowanpaw underneath his chin. As their pelts brushed, the tom felt as if their was some static between them. "You might try to act tough, but we all know you're a big softy," Whitewing meowed.

"Yeah? Well-" he was about to continue until he saw Sparkclaw emerging from the thorn tunnel. Disappointed, he cursed to himself. As nice as it was to spend time with the snowy she-cat, apologising to his brother was more important. "Sorry, but I've gotta talk with Sparkclaw. Talk to you later?" Rowanpaw asked hopefully.

"Sure," she responded. By the look in her eyes, he could see that she wanted him to stay a little longer. He gave a slight smile to Whitewing before approaching his younger brother.

Rowanpaw's voice was softer than normal as he greeted Sparkclaw, "Hey, D."

"Hey." came the brown tabby's reply, with a neutral tone and flat delivery.

"I'm sorry about yesterday, man. I screwed up bad," he apologised, "I know you were only doing what you could, I just wish it didn't have to be like that, y'know?" he couldn't help but feel ashamed of his attitude the night before.

Sparkclaw sighed, "Me too, Al, me too."

"So, water under the bridge?"

"Water under the bridge."

"Good."

"So, you good to do some training?"

"Can't. I'm stuck in camp until next month."

"And whose fault is that's?"

"Oh, fuck you."


	25. 25 - Paranoid (3 of 3)

Sheer isolation.

That was the only way that the Dark Forest could be described as; sheer isolation. In this place, the night was never-ending and oppressive. Anything and everything was dead in this place, from the gnarled and ashen trees to the still rivers. This afterlife was meant to be punishment for the dregs of the Clans, cats that had as much worth as the scum between teeth.

But how was that punishment supposed to be carried out? This wasn't like Hell or Purgatory, it was dead here. It was eerily silent and cold, so what was the point? Alex, or Thornpaw as ShadowClan knew him, knew exactly what the Dark Forest's purpose was.

It was to have the overwhelming loneliness nibble and gnaw away at your soul. To have the void surrounding you make you feel so vulnerable that you wished you were never born. Thornpaw despised the Dark Forest for how much it reminded him of home.

He needed a distraction, something to take his mind off of his childhood home before he snapped. That's why Thornpaw had Mintpaw make a glass construct to fight against, that way he could take out the brewing storm of emotion on something.

Mintpaw's construct had the rough shape of a cat, but was unnaturally angular. Like anything the pale gray tom made using his power, it had a green crystal-like aesthetic. It moved towards him, its steps sounding out like crunching glass. The crude being lumbered towards Thornpaw.

The light brown tabby reacted by forcing it back with a psychokinetic shove, sending the dummy tumbling backwards. It struggled to get back to its feet, the construct's movements were slow and clumsy. Thornpaw enhanced his own strength, enveloping his paw in psychokinetic energy before slamming it through the construct's head. The shards bounced off the barrier he had placed around his arm. The crude being fell apart.

"Again." Thornpaw demanded.

Mintpaw, resting at the base of a dead tree next to Ella, huffed, "why though?"

The tom glowered, "just do it."

Sootpaw leered down at him from his position in the branches, "what's gotten under your skin, Alex?" he scorned.

Thornpaw didn't dignify the scarred cat with a response, only giving him a stare full of disdain. His power allowed him to read the minds of others, something that started off unwillingly before the tabby learned to get it under control. Thornpaw knew what people were really like and he knew everybody had a chip on their shoulder - no matter how pleasant they appeared on the surface. Never had he seen someone so evil as Sootpaw.

While there was some detestable people in the world who took pleasure in their atrocities, Thornpaw didn't think that someone could burn their whole village to the ground all while smiling and sincerely believe that he was doing something right. Everything with a sense of self had the same capacity for violence deep down, they just hid it to varying degrees. But Sootpaw seemed to be an exception, or Thornpaw had finally encountered someone who didn't even try to restrain himself.

Every instinct told him to kill him, make the world a better place. He couldn't right now. But the time will come, he told himself.

The ShadowClan cat turned towards the WindClan apprentice, "where's that construct?" he impatiently asked.

"All right, it's coming. Gimme a sec." Mintpaw sighed.

Moments later, another construct was generated. Thornpaw smashed his paw through its chest before it could do anything. It crumbled again. "Another one." he meowed.

"Again?" the pale cat asked, sighing irritably.

"Unless you have something better to do, make another." the light brown tabby snapped. His impatience was getting to him now. All four of them had been summoned to the Dark Forest, yet Tigerstar was nowhere to be found. Thornpaw just wanted to find out what he was here for, then leave this place. He wasn't sure if it was the cold making him shiver or old, resurfaced memories.

"What are we even here for?" Ella, known as Silverpaw to her Clan, suddenly spoke up with a thick Polish accent. Thornpaw suddenly turned to her, not expecting her to have spoken. She always kept to herself and rarely wanted to talk to either himself or Sootpaw. Though the latter was completely justified.

Mintpaw responded, "I dunno."

A voice broke through the darkness, "well, I'm just about to tell you."

The four cats turned to see Tigerstar entering their clearing. He was a massive brown tabby, his body littered with scars and his amber eyes gave off a ghastly glow. The tabby was accompanied by a somehow larger tom.

That tom had always piqued Thornpaw's interest. He was massive and musclar, yet horribly burned and scarred. His leathery flesh was the exact colour of Sootpaw's own, with small tufts of black fur covering parts of his body. The cat's eyes were always milky and glazed over, the skin around his maw had melted and connected the upper and lower lip in some areas. His ears were also melted in places.

This cat, whoever he was in life, never spoke and could only make guttural sounds to display hostility. Perhaps whatever killed him had broken his mind, as when Thornpaw attempted to enter his mind he found a shattered, scrambled mess he couldn't read. Tigerstar had never bothered to mention the disfigured cat's name, so Thornpaw had given him one:

Watchdog, because he was Tigerstar's shadow - and what he used to keep the four of them in check.

"I brought you four here to discuss those two you killed," Tigerstar's voice rumbled through the clearing. He turned to Sootpaw, "and then failed to kill among other things."

The dark gray tom glared in response. He spat, "I would be more patient if I were you."

Tigerstar leered, "are you threatening me?"

Sensing the dark tabby's hostility, Watchdog snarled and took an aggressive step forwards. From his shadow, several black tendrils rose from the ground. They writhed, barely stable yet structurally sound enough to rip through Sootpaw. The ShadowClan apprentice slinked away from Tigerstar and his Watchdog. Both Mintpaw and Silverpaw were uncomfortable, shifting away from Watchdog while trying to make it seem natural in case he took it as an aggressive gesture.

Thornpaw furrowed his brow, "we know. We kill them again."

That would be easier said than done, especially since Jordan had gained control of his powers. Unfortunately, Sootpaw has managed to get away with only a few new self-inflicted burns. Though he hadn't been able to see if the tom had experienced any backlash from his power. Thornpaw had been inside Jordan's head, though only briefly. He didn't know what the cat's limits were.

Glowering, Tigerstar responded, "if it were only that simple. I wanted them dead because I knew they could be dangerous. Never could I imagine that StarClan would swallow their pride and bring them here."

"And how is StarClan a problem?" Silverpaw asked, one eyebrow raised. Clearly, she didn't

"Prophecies," Tigerstar said simply, "StarClan could send ThunderClan's medicine cat a prophecy and let them prepare for us." Out of rage, the dark tabby clawed at the dirt, "foxdung!" he cussed.

Sootpaw jumped down from his position in the tree, landing with a grunt. "If StarClan is such a problem, then let me burn it to the ground." he offered, flexing his claws as ash briefly enveloped them.

The spectre gave a bitter laugh, "do you think it's that easy? It's like trying to burn the Dark Forest to ashes; you just can't."

"You haven't tried hard enough." the dark gray cat replied.

Tigerstar gave a retort, "you're welcome to try, but if you can't even burn ThunderClan's forest down I don't think you have much of a chance."

Sootpaw glowered, but done nothing in the presence of Watchdog. His orange eyes blazed with animosity towards he dark tabby.

Thornpaw felt a shiver of contempt run through him. How could Tigerstar expect Sootpaw to just do what he was told when all that monster wanted to do was murder indiscriminately? The tom was deluded, beliving that the world was out to get him so he would kill it before it killed him. The spectre was full of hubris if he truely believed that Sootpaw could be controlled for long.

The light brown tabby wanted to kill him because he deserved it. That cat was deplorable in every sense of the word. To Thornpaw, most people were spiteful but not everyone was spiteful enough to deserve death. Jordan and his parents deserved it for their selfishness, having all that money yet only indulging in it rather than giving to the poor. Those two officers in Lansing had taken bribes in the past instead of upholding the law like they were supposed to. Allen's childhood was the fuel to his funeral pyre.

Yet none of these people would make the effort to make up for their past blunders. So Thornpaw would force them to repent. He would stop them from continuing down the path of spite. That's why he killed them. Thornpaw was helping them - even if they didn't see that.

"That doesn't matter," he dismissed, "they can prepare all they want, but that won't change anything while we have numbers and power."

"Yeah? They have power too now." Mintpaw argued.

The light brown tabby leered at him suspiciously, "you sound like you're talking from experience." he watched as the WindClan apprentice suddenly went rigid. He tried to push into his mind, but was bounced back instead. Thornpaw's eyes widened. Did he just stop him from reading his mind? How did Mintpaw do that? By just deciding he didn't want him in?

Thornpaw didn't have much time to ponder as Tigerstar began talking again, "Thornpaw's right. Power _is_ everything, you should all know that well."

The world around them began to decay, falling apart as all four of them began to wake. Tigerstar's voice rang out, becoming more distant and faint as each second passed. "Now go. Kill both of them and don't disappoint me again; I'll make crowfood out of you."

Thornpaw, just before he woke, felt a surge of horror pierce his heart. The Dark Forest had eerily reminded him of home, but Tigerstar had reminded him of something much worse. Something that had shaped and molded him into the cat he was.

His own bastard of a father.


	26. 26 - The Fall (1 of 2)

Brookpaw sat up in his nest, blinking groggily. The sun's rays poked through the roof of the apprentice den, somehow managing to strike him in the eye whilst he was sleeping. It was both miraculous and infuriating how something millions of miles away had such pinpoint accuracy.

He looked around the den. Rowanpaw and Lionpaw were still sleeping, lightly snoring to themselves, as was Hazelpaw. The tom smiled, she was kind of cute while she slept. Brookpaw paused for a moment, _okay that was kinda creepy,_ he shivered. The tom flopped unto his back. _B_ _ut it's true_ _though,_ he admitted.

The tom pondered to himself as to why he found Hazelpaw cute. Cats weren't like people with highly-varied faces and bodies, so it wasn't like he could find her physical appearance overall attractive. Berrypaw had checked out she-cats before and asked what he thought, to which he just repeated his friend's opinion - Brookpaw couldn't tell a 'fit' she-cat or an 'average' one apart. He guessed what attracted him was her personality.

 _What am I thinking about this for?_ he asked himself. Brookpaw decided to get out of his nest, stretching and yawning. He would do something productive rather than overanalyse Hazelpaw's looks. Outside, he saw Hollypaw and Cinderpaw standing near the fresh-kill pile and he joined them.

"Hey you two." the tom greeted.

"Hi!" replied Cinderpaw, a grin on her face. Hollypaw responded with a small smile.

"What's happening?" he inquired. Brookpaw had to look down on the two she-cats, seeing as there was a dramatic height difference. As people, he would place Cinderpaw at 5'4" and Hollypaw at 5'3".

"Not much," the gray she-cat answered, "we were about to take some fresh-kill, but..." she turned around. Brookpaw followed her gaze, finding a single mouse in the fresh-kill pile. "There's not much to choose from." she finished.

"We should see if Daisy wants it for the kits." Hollypaw offered.

"Sounds good," Brookpaw smiled, _and maybe it'll get me off the hook with leaving camp n' stuff_ he added mentally. It was a long shot, but he was willing to do anything that could possibly lessen his time in camp or even . He was starting to experience cabin fever. "I'll give it to 'em if you want." he added.

"No, thank you!" Daisy, who was currently sunning herself, called from just outside the nursery, "They can wait until the dawn patrol comes back for something fresh."

Ferncloud's kits were playing besides her, the sight of Icekit sent embarrassment shooting through the blue-gray tom, _does she remember me biting her? God, I hope she doesn't_ he grimaced.

"I don't mind eating a stale mouse!" Foxkit squeaked.

Daisy shook her head, "no, you've got a cold so it's only warm food for you."

"But I'm hungry!" he protested.

Icekit chimed in, "more like you're greedy!" and cuffed her brother around the ear. Foxkit retaliated with a playful hiss and pounced on her. The white-she-cat, giggling, retaliated by pummelling the ginger tom's stomach.

The queen lifted her tail as they rolled by. "It'll be a relief when they move into the apprentices' den." she mewed.

Suddenly, Leafpool called from the elders den. "Hollypaw! Cinderpaw! Brookpaw! Come and clean the bedding in here."

"Okay!" answered Cinderpaw.

Hollypaw replied, "I'll grab some fresh moss!"

Brookpaw awkwardly stood there, unsure of how to reply. The tension between him and the medicine-cat was palpable, as it was between him and most senior warriors. They really didn't like him and it was justified unfortunately. The blue-gray tom opted to follow Hollypaw's lead and grab some fresh moss.

Once they entered, Cinderpaw was already picking out stale moss from the nests. Leafpool was currently crouched beside Longtail and there was the tangy scent of herbs in the den. The apprentice couldn't help but inhale the pleasant scent a little deeper.

The medicine-cat turned to them, "Longtail's got an infected tick bite. I'm putting a poultice on it, but I want the bedding fresh so he doesn't get another one."

Brookpaw immediately went to work, seeing as Longtail and Mousefur were currently having a boring chat about the weather and neither Hollypaw nor Cinderpaw were talking either. He allowed his mind to wander as he tended to the nests, putting down fresh moss.

Something that crossed his mind is what the Clans done for fun or to pass the time. So far, aside from his own punishments, life had either been training or hunting with a small break in between. He was an apprentice though, so maybe it was just how life of an apprentice was. But what did warriors do? Patrol and hunt all day?

Surely they must do something for leisure? As they say, all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. Jordan remembered hanging out with friends, either after school or during the weekend, and grabbing a bite to eat or going to see a movie. He sighed in longing. Brookpaw missed them.

There was a sudden call from outside the elders den. "Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather here beneath the highledge!"

"A Clan meeting?" Mousefur mewed. "I hope everything's okay." she added in a murmur, slowly getting to her paws. Hollypaw and Cinderpaw looked at one another, excitement glimmering in their eyes before they darted out. Brookpaw followed and sat beside them.

As ThunderClan gathered underneath the highledge, Firestar began to speak. "This is something I've been wanting to do for a while now," he began, "and now that Newleaf is here, I don't think there's a better time for new beginnings."

The blue-gray tom's face twisted in confusion, _Newleaf?_ he echoed, _what's-_ the realisation dawned on him. _Ooooh, it's Summer._ Brookpaw thought. That meant his birthday was soon. He was born of the twentieth of June.

"It's time Millie became a warrior!" Firestar declared.

Brookpaw had no issue with that, though he knew some cats might have. He looked around for any disapproving faces, only finding a few in a crowd rippling with endorsement.

"About time!" Whitewing called out. Rowanpaw, sitting at her side, gave an approving nod.

Birchfall chimed in, "she has the heart of a warrior!"

However, despite the air of approval in ThunderClan camp Hollypaw beside him seemed stiff as if the announcement came as a shock. "What's up?" asked Brookpaw.

The she-cat replied, "oh? Nothing."

"Do you think Millie _shouldn't_ be a warrior?" he ventured.

She shuffled her paws, "It's not that. Graystripe _did_ train her, and she's a good hunter and fighter. But she never trained as an apprentice and we don't know if she even believes in StarClan. I don't think you can give a cat a warrior name if they weren't an apprentice, either," Hollypaw meowed, "and what would the other Clans think? They might be hostile to us because we made Millie a warrior."

Brookpaw nodded in understanding. "Hey, if they're gonna get upset that's a little hypocritical, don't you think? I mean, they've got cats who weren't born in the Clan either."

Hollypaw nodded in agreement, "I guess you're right."

The ceremony continued. "Millie," the ThunderClan leader called out, "step forward."

The tabby she-cat did as instructed. She held her head high with pride.

"You have fought bravely in battle," started Firestar. "You have made sure the Clan was fed through a bitter Leaf-bare. No cat here doubts your loyalty or skill. You have earned the warrior name I give you," for a moment, he paused, "form this day-"

"-Wait!" interrupted Millie.

A ripple of surprise moved through ThunderClan. Brookpaw watched the she-cat intently. Did she not want to be part of ThunderClan? He didn't know what the issue was. The tom was only half-listening before, now he was interested.

Millie looked around the clearing. "I'm privileged to be considered a part of ThunderClan and I couldn't tell you how grateful I am, especially to Graystripe from saving me from a kittypet life," she meowed. "I would've been living a half-life if he hadn't been there."

The she-cat turned to her mate in the crowd, giving him a loving gaze. Graystripe stepped out of the crowd and voiced what was on everybody's mind; "Millie. . .you're not going to leave, are you?"

She shook her head, "never." she said as she brushed muzzles with him. Millie turned back to Firestar, "ThunderClan can count on me, but I don't see anything wrong with keeping my name."

A shocked silence settled in the clearing.

"Uh oh." Brookpaw muttered.

Graystripe looked around the clearing. "Millie's right, it doesn't matter what she's called - what matters is how she acts."

At that point, Brookpaw had stopped listening. He had never thought about, nor did he ever consider, the possibility of being able to keep his birth name instead of adopting a Clan one. _You can do that? I mean, I like my name, but you can actually do that?_ he thought to himself. The tom wasn't sure for how long he was wrapped up in thoughts until Hollypaw nudged him.

"You're going to catch flies with your mouth open like that." she giggled.

The tom snapped back to reality. "Huh, what?" Brookpaw looked around, mouth still hanging open. Then, he shut his mouth, "oops. Thanks for telling me." he responded sheepishly.

"Nice to see that you're as alert as ever, fox-killer." Squirrelflight teased.

The apprentice became flustered, "when'd you get here, Squirrelflight?"

"For as long as you've been staring off into space." she responded.

"Oh." He responded flatly.

"How did you even manage to do that with all the noise going on?"

"I don't know."

Suddenly, Hollypaw's mentor called her over to where he was standing. The she-cat was about to be assessed on her hunting skills. Squirrelflight watched as her daughter got ready for her assessment, pride in her eyes. The dark ginger she-cat turned to Brookpaw, "we should assess your progress, too. Let's go."

The blue-gray cat's features twisted in confusion. "but I'm stuck in camp." He reminded her.

His mentor dismissed his argument. "Well I'm giving you permission to leave, so let's go." Squirrelflight stood up, heading towards the small group of apprentices and mentors that Hollypaw was a part of, letting them know that they were joining them. They soon exited the camp.

Brookpaw was determined to do his absolute best in this assessment. If there was anyone who could lessen his punishment, it was his mentor. He was rewarded for his efforts, catching three mice. But he had to keep going. Currently, he was stalking an unsuspecting vole.

While it hunted for seeds, blissfully unaware of the danger it was in, the tom got ready to pounce.

'Crack!'

He accidentally stepped on a dry twig and the vole began scrambling away.

"No!" Brookpaw go ready to chase after it, but it would be long gone before he reached it. To ensure he hit his mark, Brookpaw used a fraction of his power throughout his body. Only enough to give him the edge he was looking for without having to worry about sounding off like a cannon when he moved. The tom passed his prey, unsheathing his claws, swiping the vole up into the air, and catching it in one fluid motion.

Four pieces of prey.

"Wow, Brookpaw!" Cinderpaw mewed, "I didn't know you were so fast!"

Brookpaw froze for a moment as panic set in. Where did Cinderpaw come from? She must have been hunting nearby. "It's all in the legs, y'know? Being tall has its perks." he replied coolly, stretching to emphasise his point. _Please_ _God, let her buy that._ Brookpaw pleaded mentally.

"Well I wouldn't know, I'm kinda small." the tabby she-cat giggled.

Hollypaw and Mousepaw emerged from the ferns at their side. "Have you two got enough prey?" asked the black she-cat.

Brookpaw looked down at his own catches, "I think I could go for one more." he admitted.

"Me too. I want to show Spiderleg I can catch squirrels as well as mice," Mousefur answered. "That's why I'm going to climb the Sky Oak." he announced.

"No way!" Cinderpaw gasped, "the tallest tree in the forest?!"

"There's other trees, too, Mousepaw." Hollypaw warned him.

"But I've been practicing and I want to show Spiderleg how good I am." he insisted.

"That's so brave." breathed Cinderpaw.

 _Is she trying to flirt?_ Brookpaw thought to himself. He wasn't particularly certain if it was or wasn't since he was horrible at picking up on stuff like that. _Nah, she's probably just impressed by that. It wasn't flirting when she said I was fast, now was it?_ he concluded.

"Let's go!" said Mousepaw, darting through the ferns. The rest of the party followed, but not before burying their prey. At the base of the tree, Brookpaw had to crane his neck up to even see the leaves. In a way, it reminded him of the skyscrapers back home.

Mousepaw sat the base, his tail trembling.

"Someone's scared." teased Cinderpaw.

Hollypaw shot her a disapproving glance, "how about you hunt some mice instead? There'll be plenty around here."

"Yeah, pansy mice for pansy cats." Brookpaw crowed.

The black she-cat sent him a warning glare while the white-and-gray's tom fur bristled in response. "I'm going to catch a squirrel." he declared, determination ripe in his voice.

As the apprentice began to climb the tree, Brackenfur shot out of the bushes. "Get down from there, it's too dangerous!" he called.

Spiderleg, Mousepaw's mentor, followed him. "Let him climb it, he's perfectly capable!" he snapped.

"But he's still young!" Brackenfur argued.

"Are you saying that my apprentice is weak?" he challenged.

Cloudfur and Squirrelflight joined them, padding out from the trees. "Hey, I thought we weren't supposed to help-" he stopped mid-sentence when he saw Mousepaw.

"See? It's easy!" the apprentice called down, nimbly leaping from branch to branch.

"Not too high!" his mentor cautioned.

Squirrelflight turned to Brookpaw, "what's he even up there for?" she asked.

The blue-gray tom shrugged his shoulders, "He wanted a squirrel, but he only wanted one from the Sky Oak - must be, like, organic or something like that."

The dark ginger she-cat looked at him inquisitively. "...Organic?" she sounded the word out slowly, as if trying to pronounce a word in a foreign language.

Brookpaw responded, "dumb joke. Just ignore me."

Cinderpaw pointed at a branch with her tail, "there's one!" she called up to Mousepaw. The apprentice chased after it, climbing higher and higher until he could barely be made out. The squirrel leaped out of the Sky Oak into the branches of a neighboring tree and leaving Mousepaw marooned.

The blue-gray apprentice watched to see if he would begin making his way down. But he didn't move a muscle, "uhhh. . .you gonna come down now?" he called up.

"I can't!" he cried, his voice barely audible, "I-I'm stuck!"

 _Where's the fire brigade when you need 'em? This is their shtick._ Brookpaw mused, But he quickly realised how severe the situation was. If Mousepaw fell from that height, it would be a gory mess. Having experience falling to certain death, Brookpaw didn't wish that on anyone. A part of him now wanted to leave after remembering that trauma.

"I'll get him!" declared Cinderpaw, bounding over towards the trunk of the tree.

"You get back here!" hissed Brackenfur.

But his words fell on deaf ears as his daughter began her ascent. Slowly and cautiously, she leaped from the lowest branch to another. The tabby she-cat took her time between jumps, but little by little she was making her way up towards Mousepaw. All the while, her father was trembling.

"She's nearly there." Cloudtail announced.

Up in the Sky Oak, Cinderpaw was only a few branches away from Mousepaw. "It's okay," she reassured him, "there's nothing to be frightened of." Slowly she began to make her way down. "There you go." she meowed, "just remember to grip with your claws."

One jump at a time, they were getting closer and closer to safety. A bird, panicked by the presence of cats, suddenly shrieked and fluttered by the tom's face. He cried out in surprise and slipped off the branch.

From down on the ground, Brookpaw felt his heart stop.

Luckily, Cinderpaw was quick. She lunged forward, gripping Mousepaw by his scruff and hauling him back onto the branch. However, only her hind legs were stopping her from plummeting while her front paws flailed helplessly in the air. But her hind legs were losing their grip.

Then she fell.

Time seemed to slow down for Brookpaw, watching the she-cat batter herself off of each branch between her and the ground. He could save her. The tom wasn't as fast as Rowanpaw but he would be fast enough to reach Cinderpaw. But if he did, then everyone would know about his powers. He could be shunned, ostracised, or worse.

Brookpaw's mind was at war with itself, torn between doing the right thing and serving his own selfish desire to protect himself. Even if he caught her, whiplash from the sudden momentum shift could kill them both. Cinderpaw might have broken her neck on a branch already. Hot with shame and mentally screaming at himself, he chose to look away and close his eyes.

The sickening crack of Cinderpaw hitting the ground would forever haunt him.


	27. 27 - The Fall (2 of 2)

Brookpaw anxiously waited outside the medicine-cat den, pacing back and forth. Occasionally, he peeked inside to find that Leafpool and Jaypaw were busy with their duties. The tom looked for Cinderpaw, but his view was blocked by the two other cats inside the den.

He wasn't sure if he was relieved or irritated that he couldn't see her. The apprentice felt as if he was drowning in guilt, feeling remorse. Brookpaw could have saved Cinderpaw, but made the choice not to in order to keep himself safe. But at what cost? The gray tabby she-cat might never become a warrior because of his actions - or rather, because of his inactions.

Now he wanted to see how she was doing. It had been a few days since the fall. Yet Brookpaw couldn't bring himself to step foot in the den. If he did, the tom felt it would be an offensive action, having the audacity to see how Cinderpaw was feeling after he just allowed her to fall. But it would be worse if Brookpaw did nothing or carried on like he played no part in it.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, the blue-gray cat went to enter the den until Jaypaw walked out. "Oh, Jaypaw! How's it going, buddy?" he asked, keeping his voice as steady as possible and giving a shaky smile.

"You know I can feel your guilt, right? It's obnoxious." the medicine-cat apprentice replied simply.

Brookpaw's smile dropped, his voice now barely above a whisper. "Look, I just feel awful. I-I could've done something-"

"-Or you could've both died," interrupted the medicine-cat apprentice. "Listen. You couldn't have done anything without ending up chest-deep in crowfood in another way." he said. Despite Jaypaw's aloof nature, it still gave Brookpaw the impression of reassurance in his own way.

"I guess." he sighed.

"If it makes you feel any better, though," Jaypaw mentioned towards the den, "you can go see how she's doing."

Brookpaw nodded, picking up the mouse at his side - a little something for Cinderpaw - and entered the medicine-cat den. He felt both awkward and nervous from being in the same den as Leafpool and Cinderpaw at once. The medicine-cat herself was staring right at him, thankfully she wasn't glaring. Cinderpaw was giving him a full smile however. Her blue eyes were glimmering with happiness.

As he approached, the tom's eyes wandered to her leg. A wooden split ran along her it, one was also likely on the other side, and was kept in place by cobwebs wrapped around her leg. Shame tugged at Brookpaw's heart and he unable to bare the sight of it any longer.

"Hey," he greeted, dropping the mouse and nudging it towards her. "I brought you something."

The she-cat smiled, "thanks."

"How are you feeling?" Brookpaw inquired.

"I'm okay," Cinderpaw mewed, "but not being able to do anything's gonna drive me crazy!" she admitted. "Leafpool won't even let me leave the den for a minute." the gray tabby huffed.

Leafpool shot back, "you're not going _anywhere_ until that leg's healed."

"See!?" she gave an exaggerated sigh.

The blue-gray tom chuckled. "I could carry you around camp if you want." he offered.

Cinderpaw gave a sly response. "Yeah, not gonna happen. I fell form the Sky Oak a few days ago I don't need to fall from anywhere higher, 'kay?" she playfully cuffed him over the ear.

Brookpaw tried to ignore the stab of guilt he felt. _You'd be okay if I actually done something,_ he answered mentally. "Don't worry, short stuff, I'll carry you like a kit."

Again, she cuffed him over the ears. "In your dreams!" she playfully hissed.

"Calm it down, you two." the medicine-cat called over her shoulder. "I'm trying to sort herbs in case WindClan attacks."

Cinderpaw rolled her eyes in response, but said nothing.

Brookpaw felt himself grow hot under his fur. The tension between ThunderClan and WindClan was something else he was responsible for.

He couldn't keep it in any more. "I'm sorry." muttered Brookpaw.

The she-cat's features twisted in confusion. "about what?" she asked.

The tom froze for a moment, unsure how to answer. He couldn't tell her about his meta status, especially not with Leafpool in the den. With a sigh, he responded. "I know I could've caught you if I moved fast enough-"

Giggling, Cinderpaw responded. "What a mousebrain. You're fast, but not _that_ fast. Even if you did you would have hurt yourself badly," she gave him a gentle nuzzle, "you're sweet, Brookpaw. But don't beat yourself up about something so silly." she cooed.

Brookpaw didn't know how to react. The tabby she-cat didn't know the truth, that he really could have caught her. Even if they were both gravely injured, Rowanpaw could heal them and it would be like nothing had ever happened. Yet he had been so selfish and let her fall anyways.

The tom nuzzled her in return. Bring sorry wouldn't fix Cinderpaw's leg. All he could do for her was supporting and being there for her - so that's exactly what Brookpaw would do. He had the rest of the Clan to make up to, even if they didn't know it. "I hope you get better soon." the tom murmured.

"Me too. Thanks for visiting." Cinderpaw smiled.

Brookpaw looked towards the outside world before turning back to the she-cat. "Sorry, but I gotta go now. See you."

"Can you visit again?"

"Of course."

The blue-gray cat walked out of the medicine-cat den, sighing with relief. While he still considered the she-cat's broken leg his mistake, he felt better after talking to her. Suddenly, he felt somebody nudge him.

It was Berrypaw.

"So, ah, you fancy Cinderpaw?" the cream tom teased, a sly grin on his face.

Brookpaw became flustered but quickly settled down, if his friend only knew why he was visiting her in the first place. He brushed the comment off; "What? Noooo, I couldn't steal her from you."

Feigning haughtiness, Berrypaw replied. "No no. I insist, she's yours. I've got enough she-cat crawling on me as it is."

The blue-gray tom looked around, "...are they invisible or what?"

"They're just hiding from you." the cream tom retorted.

"Aww, did they tell you that so your feelings didn't get hurt?" Brookpaw crowed, using a childish tone.

Berrypaw's fur bristled and he lowered himself towards the ground with a playful growl. Yet again, things were about to devolve into roughhousing. That was, until there was a sudden commotion form the leader's den.

"Why isn't anyone doing _anything_?!" someone yowled from inside the den.

Their interaction all but forgotten, both apprentices looked at one another. Before either cat could contemplate on who the culprit was, they bolted out Firestar's den and into the apprentice den. It was Hollypaw, clearly upset from whatever interaction that had taken place.

"What was that about?" the cream tom inquired.

He shrugged. "Dunno, but I'm gonna find out." Brookpaw mewed before approaching the apprentice den. Cinderpaw's broken leg was his fault but if he could help out a Clanmate in any way then that's what he would do. It was all he could do to make up for it.

"Hey, Hollypaw?" the tom called out, entering the den.

The black she-cat was in her nest, her head craned around to look at him.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

Hollypaw gave a frustrated sigh, getting out of her nest. "It's just. . .I'm so angry!" she exclaimed, "the Clan's getting ready to fight WindClan when we should be helping RiverClan!"

Brookpaw had heard about RiverClan now living on the Gathering island, though it was only temporary they assured. While tension was severe between his own Clan and WindClan - especially after the run-in Rowanpaw and himself had with Mintpaw. Something else that was his fault.

The tom nodded, "I think so too."

Brookpaw thought of Cinderpaw and how he's made screw up after screw up. The blue-gray tom had to make up for it, especially to Clan. It would be a start if he helped out Hollypaw. _I promised myself I'd help my Clanmates out, didn't I?_ Brookpaw reminded himself.

Hollypaw's ears pricked up, her eyes becoming a little brighter. "You do?" she asked.

Again, he gave a confident nod. "Yeah, totally."

She gave a short purr, "that's great. We need to sneak into RiverClan territory and see what's going on."

"Are we gonna go tonight?"

"Of course! We need to help them as soon as possible."

"Alright, I get you."

"We'll leave at moonhigh tonight, okay?"

"Sure thing."

Later that night, the two apprentices sneaked out of camp through the dirtplace tunnel. Travelling through WindClan territory, Brookpaw couldn't help but keep an eye out for Mintpaw. With someone who could make glass dummies and turn invisible, he could be anywhere. Even if he was spotted, it might not even be him.

"What's wrong?" Hollypaw questioned as they walked.

"Nothing," responded Brookpaw, "just making sure we're not being followed."

Soon enough, they passed the WindClan-RiverClan border. RiverClan territory was very similar to the one it shared a border with; open plains with tall grass. Unlike WindClan territory, there were a few trees scattered about and there was also the river. It wasn't hard to see why the Clan picked this as their territory.

Both cats were walking by the riverside, looking to see if there were any issues with the water that forced RiverClan to move to the island. Yet they didn't see anything. Hollypaw sighed, "we'll just need to ask Willowpaw rather than looking for it ourselves."

She began to walk off. Brookpaw was ready to follow her until something in the river caught his attention. It caused the water around it to bubble and ripple. The blue-gray tom eyed it curiously, leaning a little closer to inspect it. It seemed to be a silver fish, it's smooth body reflecting the moonlight.

He had a sudden idea; he could to take it to Willowpaw as a peace offering. Then, she would know to trust them and show them RiverClan's problem. Though, Brookpaw didn't know how to fish - especially not as a cat. But he had an idea of what to do. With outstretched claws, the blue-gray tom reached into the water and grabbed the fish.

It grabbed his paws in return.

Before Brookpaw could say or do anything, the 'fish' pulled him into the water. Panic began to set in as he thrashed in the murky water to get out of the thing's iron grip. It was dragging him along the riverbed with incredible swiftness as something cold wrapped around his neck. Whatever the thing was, it was trying to drown him.

It began constricting around his neck, starting to crush is throat. Instinctively, Brookpaw let sound energy run through one of his hind legs and desperately slammed it against the riverbed. He wasn't sure how much of a percentage was, possibly around the mid-twenties.

However much it was, it was overkill. The water around the blue-gray tom and his attempted murderer, along with the two of them, were flung into the air. The river rained down around him as he landed with a painful thud.

Brookpaw couldn't feel his hind leg, it was completely numb. He couldn't even tell if it was broken. His amber eyes cracked open, coughing out his lungs as he shakily got to his three useful paws. The tom looked around, trying to gather his bearings.

The apprentice knew he was still on RiverClan territory, just a part he had never seen before. That was good. All he had to do was get back to Hollypaw. Brookpaw looked towards the river, cautiously limping away from it. Something was alive in there.

He shivered, something cold and heavy running down his neck. Brookpaw looked down, seeing a metallic silver liquid dripping from him. It was mercury. The tom's eyes widened, shaking it off the best he could. He was on high alert now. Mintpaw had said the mercury meta was part of ShadowClan, but obviously that was a lie.

"That was something I wasn't expecting. The first time we met you could barely use your powers." a feminine, strongly-accented voice commented.

Brookpaw whipped around, sending the thirteen percent power he could manage through his foreleg. It should be more than enough to do her in. It was a shame too, the she-cat had gorgeous, long silver tabby fur. She couldn't have been much older that he was. What ruined her looks, however, was the stone cold look in her blue eyes.

She simply raised her foreleg in retaliation, covering it with mercury that seemed to materialise out of thin air. It was a head-on collision, the sound of metal clashing rang out in the night air.

Yet nothing happened.

Brookpaw could only stare, his face in a state of permanent shock. The she-cat hadn't even budged, all that happened was the quicksilver on her leg started rippling with waves. The blue-gray tom pulled his foreleg back, doubling the power from thirteen to twenty six. It hurt like hell, he could feel his bones cracking and his muscles beginning to tear. Gritting his teeth, he drove it forwards.

The same thing happened. The sound of metal rang out, louder this time, yet nothing happened.

"H-how-"

"-It's going to take a lot more than a love tap to hurt me, amerykánski." the silver tabby coldly replied. Her free leg became incased in mercury before she slammed it into his chest, sending hurtling backwards.

With the wind knocked out of him, Brookpaw tumbled back and landing in the river. Fortunately, his earlier stunt had lowered the water enough to where he wasn't swimming in it. Gasping for breath, he darted clumsily out of the river onto the other side as a pillar of mercury came to crush him.

Fearfully, he glanced back at the silver she-cat. His foreleg was mostly numb, a dull pain aching through it, though his hind leg was beginning to regain feeling. He had probably fractured a few bones and tore a few muscles. She was coldly glaring at him from across the shallow river, quicksilver snaking across the ground around her feet.

What was Brookpaw supposed to do now? His power was useless!

* * *

 **Okay, so I'll be taking a short break from Neon Sounds. At minimum, about two weeks. Just because I've been working on Metahuman as a series for around two/three years now consistently. So I think the quality of the story would benefit from a break since I'm running out of steam now.**

 **I hope you understand, and don't worry this isn't a permanent thing.**


	28. 28 - Mercury In Retrograde (1 of 2)

Brookpaw wasn't the smartest cat around. There were many reasons for that, wether it was because of his focus on his social life over his academics, his lack of general life experience, or something entirely different. But what he did know was that he was a sitting duck.

Here he was, all alone and separated from Hollypaw, fighting against a she-cat who somehow nullified his power. The tom's heart was frantically beating in his ears like a war drum. Brookpaw had no idea what he was supposed to do when he was clearly out of his depth.

"Can't we just talk this out over some dinner or something?" Brookpaw offered with a sheepish smile, fear and shock melding together in his voice.

Silverpaw didn't reply to him, her nose seemingly wrinkling in disgust. The mercury that had been snaking around her on the ground suddenly sprang to life and rushed towards him. The blue-gray cat crouched as his power coursed through him. He gritted his teeth, pain shooting up his hind leg and his foreleg.

But he did his best to ignore the sensation, dodging out of the way as the mercury burrowed into the dirt where he once stood. But the liquid metal resurfaced and gave chase, each tendril writhing and twisting over the others as it went. Randomly they would burrow into the ground or breach the earth.

But Brookpaw spent too long watching what was behind him that he didn't notice the mercury pillar racing towards him until it was too late. It smashed into his chest, losing its composition and liquidating upon contact. The ThunderClan apprentice cried out in pain and landed with a thud. His breathing was laboured as he swiftly and shakily got to his paws. From the pain that shot through his chest with each breath, Brookpaw knew he had broken ribs.

He evaded the burrowing tendrils, leaping into the air. He forced himself to ignore the white-hot pain throughout his body, along with the fear raging in his heart and mind as the tendrils shot up from the ground like hungry snakes. Brookpaw had to close the distance between himself and his opponent - he had no chance of winning at a distance.

What caused Silverpaw's mercury to render his powers mute went unbeknownst to the apprentice. However, if he could just close the distance and land a solid hit then it wouldn't matter. The quicksilver approached, once it was in reach Brookpaw pushed off of it and launched himself towards the silver she-cat.

Finally, it was time for his assault.

"So, ah, what's your deal?" Brookpaw asked, swiping at the she-cat. She ducked underneath his swing, putting as much distance between them as she could whilst still keeping her eyes on him. "Angry you didn't win those Off-White AJs? Cause I've got two pairs if you want one - you okay with them being a US size eleven? What colour do you want?"

The RiverClan she-cat growled at him, sending out a whip of quicksilver to flay the tom. With quick thinking, the blue-gray cat ducked underneath it. "Hey! You just had to say you weren't interested!" He protested, "and stop getting your mercury everywhere, that's an environmental hazard!"

"You talk too much." Silverpaw scoffed.

A sliver of mercury shot by Brookpaw, slashing open his cheek. So it seemed making jokes wasn't working in his favour, really all it did was annoy the she-cat more. But this fight had gone on for long enough, he concluded, and attempted to close the distance between them again. The she-cat sent her quicksilver after him. It took all of his energy to dodge and duck and weave until there was only a few yards between them.

With all the tom could manage, he swung at the she-cat. She didn't move or react, her expression stoic as liquid metal crawled along her face to protect her. But suddenly Brookpaw swiped over her head and surprise was evident on Silverpaw's features. "I pulled a lil' sneaky on ya." The tom proclaimed and grinned, driving his opposite paw right into her face.

Like their last clash, the sound of twisting metal rang out into the night air. Silverpaw didn't budge, but her expression was dark. Brookpaw's heart suddenly sank, feeling as mercury enveloped his paw in a crushing grip. He cried out in pain.

"Enough. Jokes." Snarled Silverpaw.

The mercury covering her face suddenly slipped off, all the while keeping a hold of Brookpaw's paw as it catapulted him a considerable amount of fox-lengths away. He rolled along the dirt before coming to a stop, weakly getting to his paws. The pain throughout his body was even more prevalent, his breaks most likely having worsened. The blue-gray cat attempted to walk forward, only to collapse and cry in pain. Looking down, he found his hind leg twisted at an unnatural angle.

Brookpaw only had two options now; run or fight with everything he had left. If he ran, there was no guarantee that Silverpaw wouldn't hunt him down, and what about Hollypaw? He had to fight and he had to win. The tom allowed more power to flow through him, sound energy pounding in his veins. He grit his teeth, feeling as his bones creaked and vibrated and as his muscle fibres strummed like strings on a guitar. Brookpaw had no way to gauge how much power he was using, only going off of what he felt was right.

This was much more than he used normally.

The tom only meant to take a step forward but ended up shooting straight towards Silverpaw like a missile. He had to swallow his howl of agony as bones were pulverised and muscles tore. Instantly, he closed the distance between himself and his opponent. Determination was plastered on her face, she was ready for his onslaught.

Brookpaw found himself equally as driven.

Waves of mercury came crashing down on the ThunderClan apprentice with the objective to crush him, but he zipped between any gaps he could find and bounced off of one wave to another. Each time he took off was met with a resound crescendo of noise along with the most torturous pain he had ever experienced. Brookpaw's body was tearing itself apart, unable to handle the power resonating through it. That's why he would end this fight now.

With one final push, Brookpaw rocketed towards the RiverClan she-cat. His bloodied and mangled hind legs flailed behind him uselessly. The she-cat didn't have enough time to launch another defensive, opting instead to swiftly cover herself with as much quicksilver as she could. With a cry of determination and agony, the tom slammed both his front paws into the mercury.

The resulting sound was deafening, so loud that it echoed through the mountains. As the dust settled, Silverpaw found herself parted from her protective bubble yet relatively unharmed, save for some light scratches and a dirty pelt.

The same could not be said for the ThunderClan apprentice. He lay in a mangled and bloodied heap, his sides raggedly rising and falling. Brookpaw's eyes were dulled with pain as he stared into the night sky. The agony didn't seem so bad now and little specks of darkness fluttered across his vision. The tom couldn't move. This was the end. He had given it his all - he could only hope that it worked out.

Silverpaw padded towards him with a slight limp, her blue eyes glittering with pity. "You poor thing," she murmured, "look at what you did to yourself."

"Oh, hey." he greeted. His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper.

The she-cat questioned him. "Was it worth it?"

Weakly, Brookpaw nodded. "Yeah. . .it was. I. . .I did what I could."

Silverpaw sat on her hunches looking down at him. "I'll sit here with you until you pass on. I can't believe that your own power worked against you like that."

The tom gave a weak nod, "yeah. . .it sucks. But th. . .thanks for being here; makes it easier for. . .cavalry to find you..."

As Brookpaw began to nod off, Silverpaw's eyes went wide. Not because someone was dying, but because she knew who was coming. It would be a waste of time to run so she readied herself for another fight, mercury snaking along the ground around her with tendrils poised for attack.

Dead ahead, a neon streak appeared over the horizon and was getting closer and closer. It wasn't long until it was already upon her and Silverpaw sent all she had hurtling towards the streak. As it came to a stop, it sent out a wave of neon which caused the mercury to evaporate.

"Get the fuck away from him!" Rowanpaw roared. His fur was bristling from fury, his pupils glowing from within with neon light. They were locked on and illuminating their mark; the RiverClan she-cat. Silverpaw made an attempt to retaliate, but the heat from Rowanpaw's neon caused any and all quicksilver that touched it to disperse into gas. The dark ginger tom closed the distance between himself and the she-cat, much more effectively than Brookpaw had.

The tom's paw was enveloped with neon, turning it a hot-white whilst trails of its usual pinkish-red colour lagged behind it. Silverpaw stopped attacking once her eyes wandered to his paw, instead deciding to cover herself in a protective bubble of mercury. Though this time it was much thicker.

"Yeah, you remember what happened last time, don't you?" He growled, striking at the surface of the bubble. Despite the thickness of the bubble, it easily melted away from the extreme heat from the apprentice's paw. Once he had a clear aim inside, Rowanpaw release the energy he had been storing and caused a colourful explosion.

Silverpaw was sent flying back, the mercury covering her body beginning to evaporate. The she-cat had grown wiser from their last encounter, Rowanpaw would admit that. Last time, a similar attack had burned her severely. The RiverClan she-cat had a rough landing, bouncing and rolling along the terrain before coming to a stop. She didn't get back up.

Rowanpaw stood poised for a few moments, waiting to see if Silverpaw would recover. But she never did, sitting there in a crumpled heap. He wasn't sure if she was dead or simply unconscious, but he didn't care as he had more pressing matters that needed his attention. The dark ginger tom rushed over to the dying Brookpaw's side.

"Shitshitshit.." He mumbled frantically. Neon covered his forelegs, illuminating the area around them with a soft pink glow. This softer, gentler neon wrapped around Brookpaw's body. "C'mon kid, live!" Rowanpaw begged, his voice strained.

The time it took to heal his friend must have been something like ten minutes, yet it felt like an eternity for the older tom. Doubts swarmed his mind; what if he was too late? What if the damage done to Brookpaw's body was too intense? Would he be able to live the same once he recovered - if he ever did? Once the healing process was done, Rowanpaw felt haphazardly onto his hunches, panting hard. Watching the body with both worry and guilt.

But a small part of him was angry. Outraged that Brookpaw hadn't learned from their fight with Sootpaw, that he destroyed his own body. As Brookpaw began to stir awake, Rowanpaw could feel his rage intensify though he was greatly relieved that he was alive. There were deep lacerations across his body, all of which would become scars in due time.

"Wuh..." Brookpaw began, his speech slurred from fatigue. He looked around him, his tired amber eyes falling on Rowanpaw. He smiled. "Oh, hey, Al! Thank god you got here, I really thought I was gonna-"

"-You're done." The dark ginger tom interjected.

The blue-gray cat's features twisted in confusion, "what?"

"I said you're done, Jordan," he snarled in response. "You don't get to use your powers anymore."

Clumsily, the younger tom got to his paws. "C'mon, Al! You said we would do this together!" he protested.

"That was before you started breaking your own bones just to fight!" Rowanpaw snapped. "Look at yourself! You gonna have so many scars because you can't control your powers! And there's no way that stunt you just pulled _didn't_ affect something. You might've just thrown away your chance at a lot of things, Jordan, and I'm _not_ gonna let you keep doing it!"

"Please, Allen. T-They killed my parents, I gotta do something about it," Brookpaw begged, his voice cracking. "Just let me fight!"

The dark ginger tom gave a frustrated sigh. "You can't keep doing this, Jordan. You're gonna end up killing yourself."

"Please!"

"What're you gonna do about it? Break your arms again?" Rowanpaw challenged.

Brookpaw didn't answer only hanging his head in defeat.

"You're never using your powers again, end of discussion." The older apprentice added, turning away from the blue-gray tom. "Now, c'mon," he beckoned, "let's get Hollypaw."

Brookpaw limped after Rowanpaw, trying to ignore the aching pains every time he moved. He felt numb knowing he had let both himself and his friend down. Everything Rowanpaw said was right; he really didn't know how he just handicapped himself along with scarring his body. It could be anything. He really couldn't control his powers, he surmised that he simply wasn't built to handle them.

Now, as they walked through RiverClan territory, Brookpaw felt as if he was at a crossroad. But he felt lost and confused. Without his powers, he was useless to Rowanpaw. It seemed that in the process of trying to make up to his Clan, he ended up letting them all down.

* * *

 **Well the hiatus is over now and I'm hopefully back for good now, aside from me feeling a break was necessary for the story's quality and I also had to deal with an unexpected death in my family and I'm going to have to deal with another one soon unfortunately.**

 **If I do disappear again then I hope you all understand why. You're all too good to me.**


	29. 29 - Mercury In Retrograde (2 of 2)

The night felt deathly silent now, the booming calamities that once violently resonated in the air were no longer. All that was left was silence. That quiet felt oppressive to Brookpaw, limping behind Rowanpaw. Occasionally, he would look behind them to make sure that Silverpaw wasn't following them. However, the older of the two cats didn't pay any attention to what was behind them, his hazel eyes fixed permanently to what was in front of him.

The air between them was static with tension. Brookpaw knew that he was to blame for it, his reckless actions had almost cost him his own life. Now, Rowanpaw had essentially placed a ban on his powers. From now on, under no circumstance was Brookpaw allowed to use his powers. It was inevitable that Brookpaw's prohibition would eventually be lifted. Rowanpaw was capable and independent but even he knew how arduous it would be facing four metas on his own.

However, the day Brookpaw would be trusted once again would be a long time away.

"Do you know where Hollypaw is?" the dark ginger cat asked suddenly.

He snapped out of his daydreaming. "Oh? I dunno. We got separated." Brookpaw answered sheepishly. The tom couldn't help but take note of his fellow apprentice's tone. It was very akin to how he used to sound back in the mountains. Rowanpaw wasn't talking down to him, however it was clear he viewed him as a nuisance. A dead weight.

Brookpaw couldn't even muster the energy to be offended by that notion - he knew there was some truth behind it. It was for this reason that he knew he had to get a grip of his powers. Going all out was never a viable strategy in the first place, but now he could clearly see it wasn't just reckless; but extremely dangerous too. He almost took his own life in the process of fighting Silverpaw. He didn't even land a hit.

The tom didn't understand how the she-cat was so resistant to his powers. Maybe Rowanpaw could shed some light on it. "Hey, Al." he mewed.

"What?" the tom replied.

"There was something weird about that she-cat."

"Weird?"

"Yeah. Like, her powers made mine useless. It wasn't a second power or anything, it's just like. . .I dunno how to explain it. Like she just absorbed the shock I guess."

For a moment, Rowanpaw didn't reply. "Could be that, 'cause mercury is extremely dense, it absorbed the shock of the hit."

In Brookpaw's mind, something just clicked. He was pretty thin, that might be why his powers were harmful to him. His body simply couldn't handle the shock. Perhaps if he bulked up then his body would be able to handle its powerful output. Excitedly, he began, "Al! Do you think if I-"

"When I said you weren't gonna use your powers again - I meant it." came his companion's cold and firm response.

"It isn't fair!" He protested. "You can't take all four of them on your own and I'm not just gonna sit here after what they've done to my parents!"

Rowanpaw snapped, whipping around to face the younger apprentice. In that moment, the blue-gray tom wished he hadn't opened his mouth after getting a look of the smouldering anger in his friend's hazel eyes.

"Not fair? Not fair?! You wanna know what's not fair? Me having to watch you tear yourself to pieces again and again and watching never learn your fucking lesson! Your powers are too dangerous for you to use, but you just carry on because Al's here to save you. Well guess what? I'm not gonna be around forever, Jordan. Some day, you might have to fight someone on your own and I won't be there to help you. And guess what, Jordan? You're going to die because you keep fucking tearing yourself to pieces!"

Brookpaw could only stare with wide shocked eyes, his mouth ajar.

"Do you think I wanna watch you do that? Do you?"

Brookpaw remained silent.

"Answer me!" growled Rowanpaw.

"N-no." He weakly answered, his voice shaking.

The dark ginger tabby snorted at him, beginning to calm down yet his tone was still harsh. "That's why you're never using your powers again. I can't trust you not to kill yourself and I can't be your crutch any longer. We don't know what your stunt did to you - you might not be able to use them at all now anyways. But I'm not taking any more chances with you."

He turned around, continuing to follow the river as Brookpaw lagged behind. The remainder of their trek was done in complete silence. Thick, uncomfortable silence. The apprentice had never seen him so angry before. He knew he had a temper, but that had been unexpected and he was still shaking from Rowanpaw's verbal beating.

However, despite the sting from his words, they held truth.

The blue-gray cat had been dependent on Rowanpaw, hoping that he could take out the enemy with pure brute force and his friend would heal him afterwards. He was putting his own life on the line just to win. That had to come to an end. Brookpaw felt a shining determination within him, he would learn how to use his powers properly. However, he couldn't allow the dark red tabby to know.

The two ThunderClan cats continued onwards in that uncomfortable silence. Occasionally, Brookpaw would look back the way they came, now to find that nothing was following them. Eventually, they both came to a stop. "Hollypaw's scent's here." stated Rowanpaw. He looked off to the west, "keeps going in that direction. Let's move."

And so they did.

"Do you have any idea why your powers are so wild, Jordan?" the dark ginger tom suddenly spoke.

"Uh. . .not really, no."

"My ex was a medical student, the last time I checked she was doing a thesis on metahumans for her masters."

"Oh! That's Rebecca, right?"

"Yeah, that's her."

"She gave that antibody power too, yeah?"

"Yeah."

Brookpaw laughed. "You know, that's kinda fitting that a medical student has a power that heals people."

"I guess so. Anyways, she told me about something called Singularity Syndrome; I'm pretty sure you have it."

As the blue-gray tom's features twisted in concern, he could feel anxiety gnaw at his stomach. Singularity Syndrome? He had never heard of that before. Was it terminal? "W-what's that?" he anxiously questioned. He wasn't sure he would like the answer.

"It's sort of like a disease for us, I guess," Rowanpaw started off. "Our meta gene produces proteins that lets us have our powers, but some people have mutated proteins and that causes problems. In your case, powers that're way too strong and improper resistance to them."

Brookpaw nodded slowly, digesting this new information. It made a lot of sense to him. He never understood why his powers were just that strong, holding enough force behind each hit to mutilate him. The apprentice simply thought that's how things were.

Until Rowanpaw came along, proving his belief wrong. If what Brookpaw experienced was universal, then why wasn't his friend covered in burn scars?

"So I've got Singularity Syndrome?"

"Looks like it," concluded Rowanpaw. "That's another why you're not getting to use your powers anymore. You just can't without mauling yourself. You physically can't handle it."

Suddenly, it felt like everything Brookpaw had planned suddenly evaporated. It lost its meaning. How was he supposed to use his powers now when his body simply physically couldn't handle them? The dark ginger tom was, once again, right. It looked like he would simply have to accept that there was no controlling his powers.

Now, Brookpaw simply didn't know what to do with himself.

Suddenly Rowanpaw stopped. "You smell that?" he asked.

The blue-gray tom scented the air, slightly parting his maw. He smelled it alright, his nose wrinkled in response. The scent was like stale sweat, chemicals too. Despite how artificial that part of the scent was, it was still pleasant - compared to the other aspect of it, anyways. Was there people nearby? That chemical smell must be deodorant or cologne if that was true.

"There's people nearby."

"Yeah. Probably has to do with the cottage fire."

"That happened months ago, though."

"Still an ongoing investigation, I'd think." responded Rowanpaw, keeping an eye out for anything suspicious. "I mean, they're probably looking for anything to suggest where the murder might've gone - even if he's right under their noses."

There was something so somber about that, thought Brookpaw. The culprit was never far away from the crime scene, yet they would never find him. Sootpaw was probably watching them toil from the trees, a spiteful smile on his face. The image made him sick to his stomach.

"Do you think they forced RiverClan out of their camp?" asked Brookpaw.

"Yes, they did." a voice responded.

Immediately, the blue-gray tom jumped as he had not expected the sudden company. However, he recognised the voice. Rowanpaw spun around, his front paws covered in neon and ready for a fight. Though once he saw the black she-cat, fearfully staring at him with wide, green eyes, he relaxed. Immediately, he rushed over to her.

"Hollypaw! Are you alright?" he questioned, nosing through her fur to find any wounds.

Hollypaw nodded. "I-I'm okay, I just got separated from Brookpaw." she replied, then she got a look at the tom in question and concern flashed across her face. "What happened to you?" she asked.

"Uh..." the tom stumbled.

"He just took a bad tumble, that's all." he dismissed.

Brookpaw felt relief wash over him. "Yeah, I just fell into the river. I'm fine, thanks for checking." He smiled at her. The she-cat smiled in return.

"We gotta go now," Rowanpaw urged, "I only came to find you two, now let's scram before the-"

"-but what about RiverClan?!" Hollypaw protested, "we need to find out why they're not in their own camp."

"We know," he curtly responded, "twolegs; we scented them nearby. It'll be a temporary thing, they'll be back in their camp soon." suddenly, the dark ginger tom recoiled. "Jesus! Holly, why do you reek?!"

Hollypaw sheepishly shuffled her paws. "I-I had to hide from a RiverClan patrol and. . .and. . .um." she faltered.

"it's okay, you just gotta wash yourself off. They're probably long gone by now." he reassured her.

Brookpaw felt the corners of his lips twitch, forming a brief, small smile. It seemed that Rowanpaw had a soft spot for Hollypaw.

"Oh, don't worry about them," a new voice responded, "I saw them heading back into camp. You're all in the clear. You're free to tell ThunderClan all about how you know about the twolegs who forced them out of camp. Perfect opportunity to take some of their territory for your own, right?"

The three ThunderClan cats froze. They slowly turn around, only to find a RiverClan patrol glaring at them all - the battered Silverpaw was among them. Every instinct Brookpaw had told him to run, yet it felt as if his body was frozen solid. He was a deer caught in headlights. He wouldn't be able to make it very far anyways, unless he wanted to make his wounds worse.

A blue-gray she-cat stepped out from the group, staring them down. "Come with us, if you would."


	30. The End

I can't kid myself anymore, I'm done with this story.

Honestly I hate what I've done to it. The pacing is so horribly slow, I feel like I'm the 30 chapters I've written I've gone nowhere. Compare that to Stranger Days where, at this point, I'd be entering the final act. Honestly, we should, by now, be at the midpoint but I feel it's barely begun.

I hate what I did in terms of powers too, they feel too over the top and loud that I had to dumb everyone around them down to make it work. Especially with Jordan, who is far too strong to actually _work_ in this story.

But the biggest downfall of Neon Sounds has been poor planning on my part. There's too many things that got decided upon after I started and not enough that was written down.

So I'm done. Neon Sounds is over. It will stay up, however, for anyone who wants to slug through this story. I know this isn't the end people wanted and I fully understand any frustration or disappointment. However, I'm not having a good time trying to force myself to write for this.

It's not been all bad though, it's been a valuable learning experience.

That leads me into my next point:

Metahuman, as a series, is not over. In fact, with Neon Sounds out of the way I can move onto the good stuff. A while back, I decided I wasn't fully satisfied with Stranger Days and that I'd do a rewrite of it. I'm gonna use this opportunity to announce that for the three people who care.

A fully-planned reboot of Stranger Days is coming. I don't know when, but it's on it's way. At this point in time, Metahuman: First Sons is my baby and I'm gonna be proud when I begin posting.

Trust me, it's worth the wait.


End file.
